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Boy Scouts of the 
Wildcat Patrol 

THE ADVENTURES OF PEANUT 
AS A YOUNG SCOUT MASTER 


By 

WALTER PRICHARD EATON 

ILLUSTRATED BT 

FRANK T. MERRILL 



W. A. WILDE COMPANY 


BOSTON 


CHICAGO 




Copyrighted^ /p/j, 

By W. a. Wilde Company 
All rights reserved 

Boy Scouts of the Wildcat Patrol 



OCT- 14 1915 



©CI,A411960 

IVO'I • 


To JOE 

In vie7nory of the Tele7na7‘k Swing 






Contents 

L Peanut Has a Day-Dream . . .13 

II. Peanut Stops a P'ight and Umpires a 

Ball Game 24 

III. Fixing Up the Baseball Diamond — A 

Good Turn 31 

IV. Mr. Rogers Has a Scheme ... 44 

V. Peanut Enrolls His New Patrol . 49 

VI. The First Tenderfoot Hike . . 63 

VII. Peanut and Jimmy Climb a Cliff and 

Find a Cave 91 

VIII. Peanut and Jimmy Build Their Hut . 107 

IX. Peanut and Jimmy F'ind Another Hut . 119 

X. Jimmy Emulates Sherlock Holmes . 129 

XL Tagging the Huts 136 

XII. The End of the Hut Hunt . . . 146 

XIII. Some Real Scout Work — Map Making, 

First Aid, and Lessons in Forestry . 161 

XIV. The Tracking Test . . . .171 

XV. The Scouts Turn Detectives in Earnest i 78 

XVI. Caught With the Goods . . .192 

XVI 1 . The Round Up 206 

XVIII. Peanut Writes His First Story . .211 

XIX. The Scouts Take a Trip to Court and 

Learn How Hard it is to be a Judge 220 

XX. Peanut Becomes a Volunteer . . 225 

9 


lo CONTENTS 

XXL The Wildcats Make Skis . . .234 

XXI 1 . The Wildcats Try Their Skis . . 240 

XXIII. The First Attempts at Ski Jumping . 254 

XXIV. A Ski Run Over Bald Face Mountain 260 

XXV. Jimmy Wins THE Cup FOR Jumping . 277 

XXVI. The Big Ski Run of the Season . 286 

XXVII. Peanut Gets His Chance . . . 294 

XXVIII. Peanut’s Farewell Feast . . . 298 


Boy Scouts of the Wildcat 
Patrol 

CHAPTER I 

Peanut has a Day-Dream 

P EANUT MORRISON was very melancholy. 

It was a beautiful day in spring, and the apple 
trees were all in bloom in the orchards, the moun- 
tains around Southmead were bright green with new 
foliage, the touring automobiles had begun to ap- 
pear on the streets. But Peanut had no eyes for the 
apple blossoms. He was walking along the street 
toward his home, with eyes cast down on the ground. 
High school was out for the day, and Peanut was a 
Senior. In another month he would be graduated. 

And after that ? It was the prospect of the 

“ after that which made him melancholy. 

Art Bruce, his particular chum, was going away 
to a forestry school in the autumn. Art had always 
been the best woodsman in the Southmead Scouts. 
He knew the animal tracks better than any one else, 
he knew where the muskrats nested, and the foxes, 
and where to find mink and “ snow-shoe " rabbits. 

13 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


14 

He knew all the trees, and all the trails; He was 
never so happy as when he was in the woods, so 
when his father asked him what he wanted to do for 
a living, he replied instantly, “ Be a forester.” So 
he was going away to study in September, and after 
that he would get a job, no doubt out in the High 
Sierras, or somewhere else in the great government 
forests. Anyhow, Peanut wouldn’t see him any 
more. 

Then there was Lou Merritt. He was going in 
the fall to the State Agricultural College, to learn to 
be a fruit grower. Peanut, thinking back over the 
past, remembered how Lou had once been a sneak, 
but how scouting and Miss Swain, who had adopted 
him, between them had made a man of him. Now 
Miss Swain was going to send him through college. 

“Good old Lou I” said Peanut to himself. He 
wasn’t jealous of Lou, nor of Art. But he was pretty 
blue that he couldn’t go with them. Even Frank 
Nichols was going away to study. He was going 
to a business college for a year. Of course, Rob 
Evarts was now a Senior in Harvard, and was going 
on through medical school, but that was to be ex- 
pected. Rob’s folks were well-to-do. When a fel- 
low’s folks have money, of course it makes a big 
difference. Peanut reflected. “That is,” he added, 
“if they’re the right kind of folks.” 

He was thinking of another classmate, Dennie 


PEANUT HAS A DAY-DREAM 


15 


O’Brien. Dennie’s father was rich, as rich as Rob’s. 
He owned the big garage, and lots of houses, too. 
But Dennie was going to work in the garage. Pea- 
nut had to admit, though, that Dennie would prob- 
ably rather do that than go to college. 

Prattle didn’t count much. He had always been 
fat and lazy. “ The big stiff I ” Peanut said aloud. 
Prattle would be lucky if he got through high 
school, let alone passing any college “ exams.” 
He’d go to work on his father’s farm. 

And what was Peanut himself going to do ? He 
didn’t know. He only knew that there was no 
chance for him to go to college. His father was a 
poor man, who worked by the day. There were 
several little brothers and sisters who ate a terrible 
lot and used up their shoes at a fearful rate. Peanut 
had heard of men earning their way through college, 
with the help of scholarships, but he was old enough 
now to realize that he had never really studied in the 
Southmead High School, and he knew he couldn’t 
get a scholarship. He thought sadly of what one of 
his teachers had once said to him — “ Morrison, it’s 
too bad you have such a quick mind. If it were harder 
for you to learn, you’d learn a whole lot more.” He 
hadn’t realized what she meant at the time, but now 
he knew. He had always got his lessons well enough 
in half the study period to pass in recitation, and 
then he had fooled the rest of the period. Lou 


i6 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Merritt had always needed the whole study period, 
but now Lou was going to graduate as valedictorian, 
and Peanut wasn’t even going to read an original 
essay at graduation. He had been assigned a 
** piece ” to recite. 

Feeling rather shamefaced, he picked up a stone 
and threw it viciously at a tree across the road. As 
he hit the tree square in the centre, he felt a little 
better. His baseball arm was all right, anyhow I 

But what was he going to do after graduation ? 
He’d have to, go to work, of course. His father’d 
make him. Besides, he didn’t want to be a loafer. 
“ Scouts aren’t loafers,” he thought to himself. There 
wasn’t much a fellow could do in Southmead. He 
could work for the town, hauling gravel on the roads, 
or he could work for somebody as a gardener, or he 
could get a job, maybe, as a carpenter. Peanut had 
always liked manual training in school. He had 
made a bookcase and a sideboard and a table for 
his mother. He was good at that. Yes, if he’d 
got to stay in Southmead and work, he’d be a car- 
penter I 

But that wasn’t what he wanted to be, neverthe- 
less. Art was going to be a forester, and roam in 
the High Sierras — mountains much higher than 
Washington and Lafayette ! Rob was going to be 
a doctor, and he’d have charge some day of a big 
hospital I Lou was going to learn agriculture, and 


PEANUT HAS A DAY-DREAM 


17 

some day he’d own hundreds of acres of apple 
orchards. 

“ An’ I’ll just stick here and shingle barn roofs I ” 
Peanut exclaimed aloud. “ Gee, I’d like to beat it 
somewhere and do something big ! ” 

He thought of various big things he would like to 
do. One of them was to climb higher in the Hima- 
layan Mountains than anybody had ever climbed 
before. Since the famous hike over the Presidentials 
the previous summer, Peanut had been reading all 
the works the public library afforded on mountain 
climbing. There weren’t many such books in the 
library, to be sure, but he had read Hudson Stuck’s 
account of the conquest of Mount McKinley in 
Alaska, he had read a book about the Alps, and he 
had pored over the pages of the Wakemans’ book 
about the Himalayas, the highest mountains in the 
world. 

‘‘ Oh, gee, if I could only go and see them ! ” he 
sighed, realizing the vanity of hope. 

Then he fell to dreaming of a different career. 
No, he wouldn’t be a great mountain climber, ex- 
cept on vacations. Every two or three years he'd 
take a long vacation and go climb some very high 
peak which had never been conquered before (“ con- 
quered ” was the word the books used, and Peanut 
liked it ; it made the mountain seem like a human 
antagonist you were fighting with). But in the in- 


i8 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


terim he would edit a great newspaper. That’s it — 
he’d be an editor I Ever since the Southmead High 
School, two years before, had started The Clarion, 
which came out twice a year, and was full of “ gags ” 
on the pupils and teachers, of school news and of 
stories and themes written by the scholars. Peanut 
had found a new enthusiasm. It was to write items 
for the paper, and to carry the “ copy ” to the printer 
in the next town, where he loved to watch the type- 
setting machines, and to see the printing-press throw- 
ing off printed sheets at the back, with its almost 
human wooden arms. Peanut had been one of the 
editors in his Senior year, with Frank Nichols as 
business manager. It had been great fun. He had 
written himself about half the gags. Now he sud- 
denly realized that what he really wanted to be was 
a great editor. 

He began to dream. He dreamed of being a re- 
porter first, in New York, of rushing around that 
great city with a note-book in his pocket and inter- 
viewing famous men or writing big stories on the 
front page (with huge head-lines) about fires and 
subway accidents. Then he would do so well that 
he’d be made a war correspondent, and go to 
Europe, and his articles would be signed ! Then 
he’d become editor of the paper — he’d be “ the whole 
shootin’ match,” and boss all the reporters and own 
the great printing-presses and 


PEANUT HAS A DAY-DREAM 


19 


Bang! Peanut ran smack into a doll carriage, 
which had been left standing in the middle of the 
sidewalk. The carriage upset, the doll fell out, and 
from the yard close by Peanut heard a wail of small- 
girlish anguish. He realized at once that it was Mr. 
Rogers^ little girl, and he was in front of Mr. Rogers’ 
house, and, as he stooped to pick up the fallen car- 
riage and restore the doll to its seat, he saw the 
Scout Master coming around the corner of the 
house. 

Peanut tucked in the worsted covering over the 
doll, which little Marjory Rogers, still sniffling, 
snatched off again, and put back the other way 
around, tucking it in carefully about the doll’s legs. 

“ Oo dunno how ! ” she cried. 

“ Well, well, what’s the matter ? ” asked the Scout 
Master, coming up and patting the baby on the head. 

“ He u’set my dolly carriage ! ” Marjory exclaimed. 
‘‘ Poor Angelina fell out right on she head I Boo- 
hoo ! ” 

“ There, there, Angelina’s all right nov/, she’s not 
hurt a bit. You take her into the yard and give her 
some cambric tea,” said Mr. Rogers. 

Marjory pushed the carriage in at the gate. 

** I’m sorry,” said Peanut. “The carriage was 
standing right in the middle of the sidewalk, an’ I 
ran into it. I was — I — well, I guess I was kind of 
dreaming,” he laughed, rather sheepishly. 


20 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Dreaming of what?” asked the Scout Master. 

“ Well, I was kind o’ dreaming of — of being an 
editor,” Peanut admitted. 

“ What are you going to edit ? ” Mr. Rogers 
laughed. 

“Oh, a newspaper, of course ! ” said Peanut. 

“ You want to be a newspaper man, do you ? ” 
The Scout Master looked at him keenly. 

“ Surest thing you know 1 ” Peanut cried. “ Gee, 
Art’s going to be a forest ranger, and Lou’s going to 
study to grow apples — he always was nutty about 
growing things — and Frank’s going into business — 
and I — I’m just going to stick around here, I guess.” 

“ Come into the studio and talk it over,” said Mr. 
Rogers. 

He led the way around the house to his studio, 
which smelled of oil paints. 

“ Now,” said he, sitting down, “ why do you want 
to be a newspaper man ? ” 

“ Why — why, I — I just do 1 ” said Peanut. 

Both he and the Scout Master grinned. “ That’s 
not a very clear statement of your reasons, now is 
it ? ” laughed the Scout Master. “ It sounds like a 
woman’s reason.” 

“ Well,” said Peanut, hunting around in his head 
for words to express his feelings, “ you see, I’ve been 
editing the High School Clarion, and it’s lots o’ fun, 
and if I was on a newspaper I’d be going around 


PEANUT HAS A DAY-DREAM 


21 


and seeing everything and have a lot o’ fun, and 
some day I’d be editor — maybe ; and I’d like that^ 
better’n sticking around here and being a carpenter 
or something. Gee, it’ll be a dead hole with Art 
gone away 1 ” 

“ What mark did you get in English ? ” the Scout 
Master asked him. 

Peanut shuffled his feet. “Sixty-five per cent.,” 
he confessed. 

“ Do you think an editor would stand for sixty-five 
per cent. English from his reporters ? ” Mr. Rogers 
demanded. 

“ Oh, gee, I’d work harder if I was on a paper,” 
the boy replied. 

“ But editors don’t keep a school,” the man said. 

“ They don’t want to have to teach spelling and 
punctuation and paragraphing. They expect you 
to know all those things before you come to them. 
Do you really think. Peanut, that you’re fitted yet to 
be a reporter ? ” 

Peanut shuffled his feet again and looked very 
solemn. “ I — I suppose not,” he said. “ But what 
am I gonna do? I get through high school next 
month, and pa can’t afford to send me to college. 
Dunno whether I could get into college, anyhow,” 
he added honestly. “ Couldn’t I start in on a paper 
somewhere as — as office boy, or something, and 
study to be a reporter ? Gee, I’d study hard I ” 


22 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Mr. Rogers shook his head. “ You’d have to go 
to a city, and office boys don’t get more than three, 
or four, or at most five dollars a week. If you had 
to pay your board and car-fare out of that I’m afraid 
you’d find it pretty hard sledding.” 

“ Well, what am I going to do ?” said Peanut, his 
face growing still longer. 

“ That’s what we’ve got to work out,” said the 
Scout Master. “We’ve got to find a way so you 
can earn some money for the next few months, or a 
year, so you won’t be a burden on your father, who’s 
worked hard to put you through high school, and 
so you can also find time to study how to be a 
reporter.” 

“Gee, that don’t sound easy to me!” the boy 
exclaimed. 

“ It doeptU sound easy to me,” said Mr. Rogers, 
and Peanut colored at the correction of his grammar, 
“ but a lot of hard nuts can be cracked if you hit ’em 
right. We’ve got to find a way to crack this one.” 

“ Have you got an id«a ? ” asked Peanut hope- 
fully. 

“ I’ve got several,” the Scout Master laughed, 
“ but I’m not telling any of ’em yet. You keep your 
massive brain on the job, too, and come to see me 
again in a day or two.” 

“Say, my head’s going to smoke, I’ll think so 
hard 1 ” Peanut cried as he went out. 


PEANUT HAS A DAY-DREAM 


23 


He felt better, more hopeful, already. He always 
felt better when he had Mr. Rogers on his side. He 
started off down the street, trying the Scout pace — 
fifty running steps and fifty walking steps alternately 
— and whistling as he went. 

“ ril get to be a reporter, or Fll bust I ** he said to 
himself, and kept on running for a hundred paces, 
which brought him alongside of the play field, where 
a lot of the grade school boys were playing baseball. 


CHAPTER II 


Peanut Stops a Fight and Umpires a Ball 
Game 

P EANUT stopped and watched them. They had 
chosen up sides and were scrapping almost as 
much as they were playing ball. Peanut strolled 
down toward the diamond to investigate. 

Cop Stanley was evidently captain of one side. 
Cop got his name because he once said that when 
he grew up he was going to be town policeman. 
He was a fat but husky boy, who combined a great 
deal of good-nature with a great deal of pugnacity. 
He was always fighting — and always friends with 
the boy he fought with half an hour afterward. 
Being a pretty good fighter, and being naturally 
energetic, he was usually the leader in his crowd. 

The captain of the other side was quite a different 
type of boy, Walter Swan, of the eighth grade. 
Walter was generally called “Old Hundred,” be- 
cause whenever the teacher asked for a choice of 
hymns to sing in school, he always demanded Old 
Hundred. Peanut liked Old Hundred. He was a 
thin boy, with a long, thin face, light tow-colored hair 
and a great many freckles. In fact, he had been 
called Freckles before he developed his passion for 
24 


PEANUT STOPS A FIGHT 


25 


the hymn which had now given him his new name. 
He was as good-natured in a way as Cop Stanley, 
but he didn’t laugh so much, nor talk so much, nor 
fight so much. In fact, he didn’t fight at all. He 
was a Scout, and liked best to go off on hikes in the 
woods. But when he did get mad he had a quiet 
glint in his light blue eyes which meant business. 

He was mad now. 

The game had stopped entirely, and both sides 
were gathered around first base, wrangling and 
shouting. Peanut pressed into the crowd. 

“ Aw, you was out, all right ! ” Cop Stanley was 
shouting. “You was out a mile I I touched yer 
myself, I guess I know ! ” 

“ He wasn’t out, neither,” cried Old Hundred. 
“Wa’n’t I coaching right here behind first? He 
had his feet on the bag hours before the ball came.” 

“ He didn’t!” 

“ He did 1 ” 

“ Didn’t I ” 

“ Did 1 ” 

“ Well, we gave you a close one last inning, you 
might give us this,” somebody else managed to say. 

“ I’ll give yer a close one,” Old Hundred declared, 
“ but this wa’n’t close. He was safe a mile. You 
gotter play fair.” 

“Who ain’t playin’ fair?” Cop Stanley de- 
manded. 


26 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ You ain’t,” said Old Hundred. 

“ Who says I ain’t ? ” 

“ I say so,” said Old Hundred. 

“ Nobody can say things like that ter me 
“ Is that so ? Well, somebody’s sayin’ it, right 
now,” Old Hundred repeated. 

“You think you can boss everything and put over 
a bum decision ” 

“ Who says it was a bum decision ? ” Cop yelled. 

“ I say it was, and you know it ! ” Old Hundred 
answered. 

The two boys were now facing each other a foot 
apart, and the rest were crowded around them. 

“ You take that back I ” Cop cried. 

“I won’t take nothing back, when I know I’m 
right,” Old Hundred declared. 

Then I’ll ” 

“Well, go ahead and do it, then !” 

Both boys now had their fists doubled up, and 
Cop swung for Old Hundred’s face, but the other 
boy ducked and as Cop’s arm swung over his head 
he suddenly made a football tackle and threw Cop 
heavily to the ground, and sprang on top of him. 

“ Soak him. Cop ! ” 

“ Give it to him. Old Hundred I ” 

“ Give ’em room, fellers I ” 

“ Gee, he got him in the eye ! ” 

Both teams had forgotten their game in the ex- 


PEANUT STOPS A FIGHT 


27 

citement of the fight, and they had forgotten Peanut, 
too. 

But Peanut suddenly took a hand in the mix-up. 
He grabbed Old Hundred by the collar and hauled 
him off Cop. Then he grabbed Cop by the front of 
his shirt, and hauled him to his feet. Both boys 
struggled to get at each other, but Peanut held 
them apart. 

“ Say, if you don’t quit I’ll punch both of you I ” 
he cried, and he gave both of them a shake that, 
nearly sent them to the ground. 

“ What are you buttin’ in for, anyhow ? ” Cop de- 
manded. 

“ Let me at him, I tell yer I ” Old Hundred cried. 

He thinks he can trim anybody, does he I I’ll 
show him I ” 

“ Not while I’m here, you won’t ! ” said Peanut. 
“ Say, you poor stiffs, what did you come down 
here for? You came to play baseball, didn’t you ? ” 

“Sure,” said the crowd. 

“ Well, then, why don’t you play ? If you’re 
going to play ball, play ball. If you’re going to 
fight, fight.” 

“ We can’t play ball when they cheat us, can we ? ” 
cried Old Hundred. 

“ Cheat nothing ! Who was cheating ? You 
was I ” cried Cop. 

They started at each other again, and Peanut gave 


28 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


them a shove apart that sent them sprawling into 
their respective teams. 

“ See here,” he demanded, “ I’ll umpire this game, 
and the first man that scraps gets sent to the bench, 
see ? Now go back to your places and play that last 
point over again.” 

Aw, no, he was out ! ” cried Cop. 

“ He was safe I ” yelled Old Hundred’s nine. 

“There you go again,” said Peanut. “You see, 
fellers, the only fair way is to play it over. That 
gives both sides a chance, and I’ll decide. It don’t — 
doesn’t — make any difference to me who licks. I’ll 
be fair. Come on, now — back to your places I ” 

Everybody obeyed willingly except Cop and Old 
Hundred. They were still rather sullen. Cop had 
a bruise under his eye where Old Hundred had hit 
him, and Old Hundred had a cut on his lip. But 
they, too, returned. Cop to his post behind the bat 
and the other to the coaching line at first base. 
Peanut took his position behind the pitcher, and the 
game began. 

Peanut was a good umpire. In the first place, he 
was a good ball player himself, which all the smaller 
boys knew, and he was fair, and he was good-natured, 
so that everybody liked him. The grade boys had 
not been used to playing with an umpire, and at 
first there was a lot of kicking over balls and strikes, 
but Peanut made them see that it was as fair for one 


PEANUT STOPS A FIGHT 


29 


side as the other and all a part of the game, and be- 
fore the next inning was over they had settled down 
to the real business of playing ball. The coaches 
yelled on the side lines, Peanut rushed from base to 
base to judge close decisions, he called a balk on Old 
Hundred, who was pitching for his side, which gave 
Cop an extra base, much to his delight and Old 
Hundred’s chagrin, and by the time the game was 
over everybody was on good terms again, and 
agreed that they’d had a fine tinie, even Cop’s 
team, which had lost by a narrow margin. 

“ Now,” said Peanut to the two captains, “ you 
always ought to shake hands after a game.” 

“ Sure,” said the fat Cop, grinning, for he was 
once more in the best of spirits. He put out a very 
dirty hand, which Old Hundred was ashamed not 
to take. 

“ That’s the stuff I ” cried Peanut. “ And say, 
fellers, we ought to do something about this 
diamond. It’s too rough. The grounders bounce 
any old which way. What do you say if we give it 
a dragging and rolling next Saturday morning, eh ? ” 

“ What we goin’ to drag it with ? ” somebody 
asked. 

“ I’ll show you, if you’ll all promise to be on hand 
next Saturday. What do you say ? ” 

“ Sure’s you know,” said Cop. “ My crowd’ll be 
here.” 


30 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


‘‘ Then I guess mine will,” retorted Old Hundred. 

Peanut walked up the street with the young Scout. 

“ Aw, why didn’t yer let me lick him ? ” Old Hun- 
dred complained. 

“’Cause that ain’t — isn’t — baseball,” said Peanut. 
“ I’d just as soon see him get a good trimming — he’s 
kind o’ stuck on doin’ all the bossing. I did let you 
get him down. But fighting isn’t baseball — and it’s 
up to Scouts to play the game right.” 

“ I — I suppose so,” said Old Hundred. “ But it’s 
hard when you ain’t got an umpire.” 

“ There’s something in that,” Peanut admitted. 

He parted from Old Hundred, and presently met 
Mr. Rogers walking along the road. 

“ Where’ve you been, Peanut ?” the Scout Master 
asked. 

“ Gosh, I’ve stopped a fight and umpired a kids’ 
baseball game, and played Scout Master for fair,” 
said Peanut. “ It’s almost more fun playing Scout 
Master than being a Scout.” 

“ And harder work, eh ? ” the Scout Master smiled. 

“Well, it ain’t — isn’t — so easy as eating hot gin- 
gerbread, that’s a fact,” said Peanut. “ Gee, I guess 
I’ll go home and get some supper.” 


CHAPTER III 


Fixing up the Baseball Diamond— A Good 
Turn 

P EANUT did not forget his talk with Mr. Rogers, 
and he kept turning over plans in his head, but 
none of them seemed practicable. If he went to 
work for a carpenter when he got through high 
school he would have to start in as an apprentice, 
and he could scarcely hope to earn enough, even in 
a whole year, let alone a single vacation, to send 
himself to a college anywhere. Of course, there was 
caddying to be done at the golf club. He could earn 
a dollar a day at that, after school closed, if he had 
good luck. That meant six dollars a week, or not 
more than sixty dollars between graduation and Sep- 
tember, when Art and Lou and Frank would be go- 
ing away for higher studies. That wouldn’t help 
very much I But it might. Peanut suddenly thought, 
be enough to pay for a course in a correspondence 
school. He had read of correspondence schools in 
advertisements in the magazines, and resolved to 
ask Mr. Rogers more about them. 

But meanwhile there was the diamond to smooth 
down on Saturday morning. Peanut had jumped 

31 


32 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


into the eighth grade baseball game on an impulse, 
but after he had stopped the fight and got the game 
finished in good shape, he had realized that an older 
boy, if he goes about it right, can do a lot to help 
smaller boys, and it made him feel rather proud. 
He wouldn’t have backed out now from his self-ap- 
pointed task for anything. But he also realized that 
it was going to be more of a job than he had bar- 
gained for at first. 

Gee, the kids’ll quit and want to begin playing 
before we get it half done,” he said to himself. 
“ Guess I’ll have to ring in Art and some of the 
other big fellers.” 

Art didn’t want to come, he wanted to go off in 
the woods that Saturday, but Peanut pleaded so 
hard that he consented. Lou was glad to come, 
and Frank Nichols, also. With this help. Peanut 
felt secure. 

When Saturday morning arrived, he went to the 
golf club tennis courts with a wheelbarrow, and bor- 
rowed a contraption they used there to smooth the 
dirt courts in spring. If he hadn’t borrowed this, 
he could easily have made one. All it consisted of 
was a heavy beam, eight or ten feet long, with a 
strip of old carpet tacked on the under side, and a 
rope at each end. Peanut wheeled it to the play 
field. 

“ Where are you going. Peanut ? ” somebody 


FIXING UP THE BASEBALL DIAMOND 33 

asked him, as he trundled the barrow along the 
street. 

“Pm taking this home to help mother make a 
lemon meringue pie,” Peanut answered. 

There was an iron hand roller at the play field al- 
ready, which was supposed to be used to smooth 
the diamond, only the town was too poor to hire 
anybody to use it, and the boys and young men 
who played ball had always been either too careless 
or too lazy. 

The diamond itself was all dirt. The sod had 
been entirely removed except in the outfield some 
years before, but constant playing without care had 
made it rough and hobbly, and it was full of stones. 

When Peanut arrived with his smoother, he found 
Art, Lou, Frank, and about ten smaller boys already 
there, including Cop Stanley and Old Hundred. 
Old Hundred was wearing his Scout suit. 

“ Any of you fellers got rakes ? ” Peanut de- 
manded. 

Nobody had, and as he had forgotten to tell any- 
body to bring any, he refrained from his first im- 
pulse to call them “ big stiffs.” Instead, he sent the 
boys who lived nearest home for rakes and a shovel 
or two, and while they were gone he set the 
smoother to work, the way he had seen it used at 
the tennis courts. 

It was really a simple operation. Art and Frank 


34 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


took hold of one rope, Lou and Cop Stanley of the 
other, while Peanut on one side and another boy on 
the other held the ends of the beam down on the 
ground. Then those on the ropes began to drag the 
beam across the diamond. The carpet trailed out 
behind, smoothing the dirt leveled off by the beam 
into the hollows. 

They were still at it when the rakes arrived, and 
Peanut sent Old Hundred to help hold the beam 
down, while he took a rake himself and directed the 
other rakers, following the drag around and still 
farther smoothing off hummocks, and filling up 
holes. 

“ It would be easier,” said Lou, presently, “ if you 
fellows with rakes went ahead of the drag, and 
loosened up the ground. Then the beam would do 
more work.” 

“ Right, oh ! ” said Peanut. “ Come on, you eighth 
grade 1 ” 

The ten small boys stuck to the job pretty well till 
the diamond was scraped, which didn’t take long, as 
the beam covered a ten foot strip. But as soon as 
this was done, they wanted to begin rolling it, and 
then to play ball. 

** No, you don’t I ” Peanut cried. “ Nobody plays 
on this field to-day till the job is done right, not if I 
have to sit in pitcher’s box with an automatic in my 
fist I You pick up stones, now 1 ” 


FIXING UP THE BASEBALL DIAMOND 35 

“ Aw, gee, there’s ten billion stones 1 ” wailed Cop 
Stanley. “ It’ll take till Fourth o’ July.” 

“ All right, we’ll have a game on the Fourth,” said 
Peanut. “ Come on, now, line up, the way the 
greenskeepers do on the golf links when they’re 
taking weeds out of a green.” 

Each boy took his hat or cap for a basket, and 
Peanut lined them up across home plate, with a two 
foot strip for them to pick up stones from. Then 
they began slowly to work their way toward second 
base. As soon as a boy had his cap full of stones, 
he took the load off to one side and dumped it on a 
pile, and then went back to his path. By the time 
the line had reached second, everybody’s back was 
lame with stooping over, and the small boys were 
once more clamoring to begin play. 

“ Say, how do you think we can ever get this 
diamond fixed up if we don’t stick at it?” Peanut 
demanded. “ I want to play as much as anybody, 
but we started in on this job, and let’s finish it.” 

“ It’ll finish me,” groaned Art. “ Don’t believe 
I’ll ever stand up straight again.” 

“Shut up,” said Peanut. “You’re as bad as the 
little kids.” 

“Aw, why should we do it all?” Cop Stanley 
protested. “Jim Bailey an’ Mart Dugan an’ Bill 
and Dippy Jones ain’t here. They’ll be down to 
play, though. Why should we have to do it all ? ” 


36 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

‘‘ There’s one for you to answer,” Lou whispered 
to Peanut. 

“We don't have to,” Peanut replied. “We just 
do it because we’ve got more gumption than they 
have. They're big stiffs. We don’t want to be 
stiffs, do we? We want a good, smooth field to 
play on, don’t we ? I guess Tom Barry or Eddie 
Collins couldn’t stop grounders that kept hopping 
crooked on stones, could they? An’ Ty Cobb 
wouldn’t be stealing second so often if he had to 
slide over a gravel bed. Come on, let’s have a real 
diamond I If Dippy and the rest come down to-day, 
we won’t let ’em play. Nobody can play to-day who 
ain’t — hasn’t — worked on the diamond. I tell yer — 
we’ll get up a nine of just us fellers who’ve fixed the 
field to-day, and trim the stuffin’ out of any other 
nine in town I ” 

“ Hooray I I’ll pitch I ” cried Old Hundred. 

“ I’ll catch I ” cried Cop. 

“Some battery!” said Peanut. “Now for the 
stones on the side toward first.” 

Peanut had succeeded in getting the boys tem- 
porarily enthusiastic again, and they returned to the 
toilsome job of picking up stones. They kept at it 
for nearly half an hour more, though some of them 
were grumbling. Then Peanut realized that they 
were about ready to quit. 

“ I guess you can’t make the kids stick to the job 


FIXING UP THE BASEBALL DIAMOND 37 

more’n so long,” Art whispered. “ Gosh, I don’t 
blame ’em much, on this job ! ” 

“ Maybe you’re right,” said Peanut. ‘‘ Let her go, 
fellers ! We’ll roll the diamond now, and fix the 
bases. Here, you Cop, take two or three of your 
men and start the roller going. The rest of us will 
get sand to slide in.” 

There was a sandy bank on the river close to the 
play field, and Peanut and Old Hundred, with shovel 
and wheelbarrow, set off for it. They brought a load 
of sand and dumped it at first base. Then two other 
boys set off for a second load, and so on till piles of 
sand had been placed by each base. Meanwhile other 
boys spread this sand thick along the path to the base, 
so a player could slide in some comfort. The sand 
covered up the rough ground and pebbles, and would 
keep off the mud when the ground was damp after a 
rain. By the time this was done, the boys who were 
dragging the roller had the diamond all rolled. 

“ Now, we can play 1 ” Peanut cried, throwing 
down his shovel. “ What’ll we do, choose up ? ” 
“You won’t do much of anything, I guess. It’s 
quarter to twelve,” said Art. 

“ Oh, no, it can’t be that late ! ” said Old Hundred. 
“ Why, we only just got here.” 

“ ’Tis, though,” Art declared, showing his watch. 
“You see, fellers, it takes time to make a good 
diamond.” 


38 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


** Everybody out in the field,” said Peanut, ** and 
ril knock out grounders till twelve o’clock. You 
take the outfielders, Art, and knock out flies.” 

“ Ain’t we goin’ to get a game ? ” said Cop. 

“ Sure, we want a game I ” two or three others 
cried. 

“ What do you say if we fellers that fixed the 
diamond this morning make up a nine to play the 
boys that didn’t show up?” Peanut suggested. 
“ Can you get ’em for this afternoon ? I’ll umpire — 
or maybe Art will.” 

“ Nix,” said Art. “ I’m going out in the woods.” 

** I’ll umpire,” said Frank. 

“ O. K. Then I’ll be coach. Come on, you eighth 
grade, practice now I ” • 

Peanut began to soak out grounders, which the 
infielders handled as best they could. The ball went 
much truer now that the diamond had been scraped 
and rolled. Whenever a player fumbled. Peanut 
made him try it over, until he stopped the ball clean 
and fielded it to first. Meanwhile Art was batting 
out flies to the outfield. 

After a quarter of an hour of this. Peanut called a 
halt. 

“ Now, all back at two o’clock,” he said. “ You 
fellers decide on a name for your team, and round 
up the other gang. We’ll show ’em a thing or 
two ! ” 


FIXING UP THE BASEBALL DIAMOND 39 

“ Gee, we oughtn’t to let ’em play at all, when 
they ain’t done any work 1 ” declared Old Hundred. 

“ Cheer up,” Peanut laughed. “ We’ve got to 
play somebody, haven’t we ? Besides, this is a town 
field. We couldn’t keep ’em off. And, anyhow, 
somebody had to fix it up. Maybe they’ll help next 
time, when they see how much better the ball 
bounces.” 

“Well, how do you like being a Scout Master?” 
Art asked Peanut, as they walked up the street to- 
gether for lunch. 

“ It ain’t — isn’t — so bad,” Peanut replied. “ In 
fact, it’s sorter good fun. Hard work, though. I 
wonder if we was — were — like that when we were 
kids.” 

“ ’Spect so,” laughed Art. “ What do you s’ pose 
the kids’ll name their team ? ” 

“ Search me,” said Peanut. “ Some battery. Cop 
and Old Hundred, eh ? And two days ago they were 
poking each other in the eye I ” 

“ Well, so long,” said Art, turning up toward his 
home. “ Don’t you wish you were coming into the 
woods with me this after’ ? ” 

Peanut looked a trifle sad. “ Kind of wish I was,” 
said he. “ But I got to stick on this job, now I got 
the kids started.” 

He was back at the field on time after lunch, to find 
half the boys there ahead of him. 


40 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


We got a name/’ said Cop. 

“ What is it?” Peanut asked. 

‘‘ We’re goin’ to call our team ‘ The Braves/ ” 
said Cop and Old Hundred, in one breath. 

Peanut looked at the nine small boys and the sub- 
stitute with a grin. “The Baby Braves, eh?” he 
laughed. 

“ Hi,” yelled a boy on the other side to his team 
mates, “ Cop’s nine’s named the Brave Babies I ” 

There was a shout of derision from the other team 
at this announcement, and Cop made a swipe at the 
offender. 

“ Babies, eh I ” he cried. “ I’ll show yer I ” 

“ Well, show him on the diamond,” said Peanut. 
“ Come on, you Brave Babies, and get ready. Here, 
Cop, head or tail ? ” 

He tossed up a penny, and the game began. 
Frank Nickols umpired, and Peanut sat on the bench, 
coaching his side. The Braves didn’t have very 
much trouble in winning, as Cop and Old Hundred 
were the best battery among the smaller boys, and 
most of the others on their team, being the boys 
who had come down to help fix the diamond, were 
naturally the ones most interested in baseball. 

“ Just the same,” Peanut said, after they were lead- 
ing by five runs, “ you can play a whole lot better 
than this. If you practice up, and get the fine 
points of the game down cold, you could challenge 


FIXING UP THE BASEBALL DIAMOND 41 

eighth grade teams from other towns. The Brave 
Babies might be the champions of Berkshire County, 
eh?” 

“ Hooray I ” cried Old Hundred. 

“ Aw, cut out callin’ us the Brave Babies I ” said 
Cop. 

Peanut laughed. “That name’s fixed on your 
team for life. Cop,” said he, “ just as much as Cop is 
fixed on you.” 

Mr. Rogers came down to the field before the 
game was over, and watched the last two innings. 
He smiled when he saw the Brave Babies crowding 
around Peanut at the close, and planning for practice 
the next week. 

“ You bring a ball and glove to school Monday,” 
Peanut was saying to Cop and Old Hundred, “ and 
we’ll go out back and have battery practice. You’ve 
got a good out and you can develop a drop, if you 
keep trying. Old Hundred. What you need is prac- 
tice, putting ’em over the plate. You gave twelve 
bases on balls to-day. That would be fatal against a 
decent team.” 

“ Do you think I can get a drop ? ” Old Hundred 
asked, eagerly. 

“ Sure you can. Practice’ll do it. Don’t forget 
— Monday noon ! ” 

Mr. Rogers joined the group. “ So you won, did 
you ? ” he said. “ Peanut, these boys ought to be in 


42 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


the Scouts, oughtn’t they ? Old Hundred is the only 
Scout on the nine now. Couldn’t we make room for 
’em, somehow ? ” 

“ Sure, we ought to,” Peanut and Frank both 
answered. “We’d need another Scout Master, 
though.” 

“ Would you like to join the Scouts, boys ? ’’ asked 
Mr. Rogers. 

“ Sure 1 ” 

“ Bet yer life 1 ” 

“ I would I ” 

“ Hi, and go to the White Mountains I ” 

“ Oh, gee, yes I ” came a chorus of answers. 

“ Well,” said the man, “ I guess we’ll have to try 
to arrange it somehow. The Scouts don’t want 
to miss a good crowd like this, who can play ball, 
too. I can’t take care of more meetings than we 
have now, but we’ll have to find somebody, that’s 
sure.” 

The boys scattered for their homes, and Peanut 
walked up the street with the Scout Master. 

“ The Brave Babies,” he chuckled. “ Say, that’s 
some name for a nine, eh ? ” 

“ Some name is right,” Mr. Rogers laughed. 
“ How old are you. Peanut ? ” 

“ I’ll be eighteen on June 30th,” the boy an- 
swered. 

“You will, eh? Well, come in and see me to- 


FIXING UP THE BASEBALL DIAMOND 43 


morrow afternoon. I may have some ideas by then. 
Have you got any ? ” 

Peanut’s face fell. “ Gee, I got nothing but a 
headache for all my brain work,” he answered 
sadly. 

“ You did a good job to-day, though.” 

“ Oh, that I ” Peanut answered. “ Why, that was 
just funy 

“ Pretty good sort of fun when you are helping 
others to have a better time.” 

“ Oh, most everything is fun for me,” said Peanut, 
trying to laugh it off. 


CHAPTER IV 


Mr. Rogers Has a Scheme 

P EANUT found Mr. Rogers in his studio the next 
afternoon. 

“ Well,” said the Scout Master at once, “ do you 
still want to be the editor of the New York Tri- 
bune f ” 

“ Sure,” Peanut answered with a grin. “ 'Course, I 
don’t insist on Tke Tribune. The Times would do.” 

Mr. Rogers laughed, too. “It’s a long way to 
Tipperary,” he said. “ How would you like to be 
a Scout Master first ? ” 

“What do you mean, a Scout Master?” said the 
astonished boy. 

“ Just what I say. You’ll be eighteen in a month 
or so, now, so you’ll be old enough to be made an 
assistant Scout Master. I watched your ball game 
yesterday, and I believe you could fill the bill. Of 
course, it might be hard at first — small boys aren’t 
the easiest thing in the world to manage. You 
weren’t yourself, you know ■— — ” 

(Peanut grinned.) 

” but I’m willing to take a chance on you, 

and so are the Scout Council. If you could help 
44 


MR. ROGERS HAS A SCHEME 


45 


me out for a year, say, why then you might be in 
shape to tackle some newspaper for a job.” 

” But — but I don’t get you,” the boy said. “ Pa’ll 
make me go to work, sure, when school’s over. 
Guess I ought to go, too ! ’Course I’ll help even- 
ings, but how about the hikes ? ” 

“ I don’t mean for you to do it for nothing,” said 
the Scout Master. 

“ You mean get paid for being a Scout Master?” 
said Peanut, perplexed. “ Gee, that don’t sound 
O. K. to me. Scouts ain’t — aren’t — supposed to 
get paid for doin’ things.” 

“ Scouts aren’t, no,” Mr. Rogers replied, “ but a 
lot of Scout troops have paid Scout Masters. Now, 
I don’t approve of paid Scout Masters myself. Not 
that there’s anything wrong in it, any more than in 
paid school teachers. A Scout Master is really a 
kind of teacher. Only, you don’t as a rule get such 
good men. Folks do better work for love than they 
do for money sometimes. But in your case it’s 
different. If you go to work, not only will we lose 
your help in the Scouts, but maybe you’ll lose your 
chance to be what you really want to be — a reporter. 
I believe you could make good as a newspaper man. 
I also believe that every month you stay in South- 
mead working for a carpenter or a gardener you’ll 
be just so much farther from your chance to fit your- 
self for what you really want to do. 


46 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Now, I had a meeting of the Scout Council last 
night, and they agreed with me. You see, Pm about 
the only man here in Southmead that can be a Scout 
Master now, because Pm an artist, and I can work 
when I please, or take a day off or a week off for a 
hike when I please. The other men can’t do that. 
You couldn’t do that if you were a carpenter. Next 
winter, with Art and Lou and Frank gone away to 
school, I’ll have nobody to help me. So the Scout 
Council are willing to take a gamble on you. 
Peanut, and have agreed to raise twenty-five dol- 
lars a month to pay you. That isn’t very much, of 
course, but it will keep you from being a drag on 
your father.” 

“ Gee, I think it’s a heap more’n Pm worth I 
Peanut gasped. I suppose I’ll study to be a re- 
porter when I ain’t — amn’t — when Pm not scouting, 
eh? How about a correspondence school, Mr. 
Rogers ? I seen — saw — an advertisement in a 
magazine about one that seemed to teach you 
anything, from being a doctor to writing a motion 
picture play.” 

** Nothing doing,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “ I’ve 
got a better scheme than that.” 

‘‘You have!” Peanut exclaimed. “Say, you’re 
some little schemer, all right 1 ” 

“ Yes, how would you like to be Southmead cor- 
respondent for the Hampton Herald 


MR. ROGERS HAS A SCHEME 


47 


“ A reporter, you mean?” Peanut fairly gasped in 
his astonishment. “But Joe Perkins, down at the 
depot, is correspondent. How’ll I come in ? ” 

“ Joe is going to quit the job at the end of the 
summer,” the Scout Master replied. “ He’s got a 
better place in another town, so he’s going away. 
Now, I happen to know the editor of the Herald, 
and told him about you, and he’s willing to give you 
a trial. It will be hard work for you at first, and 
maybe you’ll have to bring your stuff to me before 
you send it, to see if your grammar is O. K. But I 
think you can do it.” 

“ Oh, gee I ” Peanut half whispered. “ Oh, gee — 
a reporter I ” 

“ There isn’t much money in it,” Mr. Rogers went 
on, “ but if you hustle around and get a lot of items, 
you ought to make three or four or even five dollars 
a week in addition to what you get as Scout Master. 
That will be doing quite as well as you could expect 
to do working for a carpenter, and it will be training 
for you. Then, if you make good, if you learn to 
get the news and write it in good, clear English, I 
think maybe the Herald would take you on their 
regular staff. After that it would be up to you 
whether you got to New York or not.” 

The Scout Master looked at Peanut sharply but 
kindly. Peanut was looking at the floor. 

“ I — I don’t know,” he said, “why you do all this 


48 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


for me, Mr. Rogers. I — I guess I haven’t worked 
much in school, or — or anywhere, to deserve it. I — 
I got a lot to learn. But, by Jiminy, I’m goin’ to 
work now, and make good I ” 

He looked up, and the Scout Master put out his 
hand and shook Peanut’s. 

“Sure you are,” said he. “I wouldn’t give you 
the chance if I didn’t think you could take it. Now, 
you’d better see Joe Perkins before very long and 
find out the ropes a bit, learn where he gets items, 
and that sort of thing, and begin getting items your- 
self and carrying them to him. Then, when you 
have to take the job, you’ll be better prepared.” 

“ I’ll go down there now I ” Peanut cried, getting 
up. “ There’s a Sunday afternoon train. He’ll be 
at the depot. Say, Mr. Rogers, you’re — you’re a 
regular feller I ” 

Peanut put out his hand again. “ I’m going to 
make good I ” he added. 

Then his eyes grew suspiciously moist, and he al- 
most ran out of the studio to hide the fact. 

But he hadn’t gone far along the road before he 
began to whistle for joy. He stopped suddenly in 
his musical exercise, and said, aloud, “ Gee, I can get 
a lot about the Scouts into the paper now ! That’ll 
help.” 


CHAPTER V 


Peanut Enrolls His New Patrol 
HE Hampton Herald was a daily newspaper 



A published in Hampton, a small city not far from 
Southmead, and the county seat. It printed every 
day anywhere from two inches to half a column of 
items from each town in the county. Most of these 
items, of course, were paragraphs about people — 
“ Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so have gone to New York 
for a week’s visit ; ” “ Miss Lucy What’s-her-name is 
confined to the house by an attack of grippe,” and 
so on. It therefore became Peanut’s task to gather 
such personal items as these and turn them over to 
Joe Perkins. He soon found that daily inquiry at 
the post-office was one of the best ways to find out 
who was visiting in town. He could also gather a 
good deal of gossip from his schoolmates, and in 
wandering about the village there was usually some- 
thing to pick up. It wasn’t very hard to write out 
such items in respectable English, and presently he 
began to wonder where the training was going to 
come in. 

“ Don’t you worry about the training,” Mr. Rogers 
told him. “ We’ll pull off some longer stories for 


49 


50 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


you to write up yet ! If we don’t, it’s up to you as a 
good newspaper man to find ’em for yourself.” 

“ I might blow up the bank, or something,” said 
Peanut. “ That would make a good story.” 

“ Yes, and then you could write a piece about how 
it feels to be put in jail,” laughed Art, who was 
present. 

As soon as high school graduation had been held 
late in June, Peanut was made an Assistant Scout 
Master, and proudly received his certificate from the 
National Headquarters, which he pinned on the wall 
of his chamber, and his red badge, which went on the 
sleeve of his Scout jacket, close to the left shoulder. 

“ Art is a sort of unofficial Assistant Scout 
Master,” said Mr. Rogers, “ and he’ll help you all he 
can this summer. I’m sure, won’t you. Art ? ” 

“ Sure’s you know,” said Art. 

“ Now, what is the first thing you are going to 
do?” 

“ Well, I thought I’d make a patrol of the Brave 
Babies,” Peanut replied. “ Old Hundred’s a Scout 
already, and he can be transferred into that patrol, 
and help as patrol leader, maybe. The rest aren’t 
Scouts, but they’d like to be. They’ve hung together 
as a ball team pretty well, and cleaned up a couple 
of nines already.” 

“ Good,” said Mr. Rogers. “ Get ’em around to 
the Scout House and begin.” 


PEANUT ENROLLS HIS NEW PATROL 51 

Peanut, with his Assistant Scout Master’s badge 
(the first class Scout badge reproduced in red) 
fastened proudly at the top of his left sleeve in his 
khaki Scout coat, rallied his Brave Babies the follow- 
ing evening. Eight of them appeared at the Scout 
House, including Old Hundred. The ninth boy’s 
father wouldn’t let him join, because he had a silly 
idea that the Boy Scouts of America is a military or- 
ganization. Mr. Rogers was there, too, and Art, 
Lou and Frank, who all took a hand in helping. 

“ Now, Babies, the first thing you’ve got to do is 
to learn the Scout law, sign, salute and significance 
of the badge,” said Peanut. 

“ I thought the first thing we done was to have a 
name,” said Cop. “ Gee, we don’t wanter be called 
the Brave Baby Patrol I ” 

“ Well, you ain’t — you’re not — a patrol yet,” said 
Peanut. “ You’ve got to be enrolled as Scouts be- 
fore you get a name, see ? Now, listen, you fellers, 
and I’ll read you the Scout law first. You want to 
listen to this, too, because it tells you what it means 
to be a Scout. Now, are you ready ?” 

Peanut then read, as impressively as he could, the 
Scout law. Perhaps some of the readers of this 
book are not Scouts, and do not know that law, so 
we will repeat it here. Of course, all Scouts know 
it I A Scout who had forgotten it wouldn’t be a very 
good Scout ! 


52 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


/. A Scout is trustworthy. 

A Scout’s honor is to be trusted. If he were to 
violate his honor by telling a lie, or by cheating, or 
by not doing exactly a given task, when trusted on 
his honor, he may be directed to hand over his Scout 
badge. 

2. A Scout is loyal. 

He is loyal to all to whom loyalty is due : his 
Scout leader, his home, and parents and country. 

j. A Scout is helpful. 

He must be prepared at any time to save life, help 
injured persons, and share the home duties. He 
must do at least one good turn to somebody every 
day. 

4. A Scout is friendly. 

He is a friend to all and a brother to every other 
Scout. 

5. A Scout is courteous. 

He is polite to all, especially to women, children, 
old people, and the weak and helpless. He must not 
take pay for bemg helpful or courteous. 

6. A Scout is kind. 

He is a friend to animals. He will not kill nor 
hurt any living creature needlessly, but will strive 
to save and protect all harmless life. 

7. A Scout is obedient. 

He obeys his parents. Scout Master, patrol leader, 
and all other duly constituted authorities. 

8. A Scout is cheerful. 

He smiles whenever he can. His obedience to 


PEANUT ENROLLS HIS NEW PATROL 53 

orders is prompt and cheery. He never shirks nor 
grumbles at hardships. 

p. A Scout is thrifty. 

He does not wantonly destroy property. He 
works faithfully, wastes nothing, and makes the best 
use of his opportunities. He saves his money so that 
he may pay his own way, be generous to those in 
need, and helpful to worthy objects. 

He may work for pay but must not receive tips for 
courtesies or good turns, 

JO, A Scout is brave. 

He has the courage to face danger in spite of fear, 
and has to stand up for the right against the coax- 
ings of friends or the jeers or threats of enemies, and 
defeat does not down him. 

11, A Scout is clean. 

He keeps clean in body and thought, stands for 
clean speech, clean sport, clean habits, and travels 
with a clean crowd. 

12, A Scout is reverent. 

He is reverent toward God. He is faithful in his 
religious duties and respects the convictions of others 
in matters of custom and religion. 

“ Say, have we gotter remember all that ? ” Cop 
demanded, when Peanut had finished. 

“ Remember it ? You’ve got to live it,” Peanut 
answered. ’S[ 5 ecially number four — ‘ A Scout 
is friendly.’ No more scraps between you and Old 
Hundred ! ” 


54 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


All the new candidates laughed at this, and Pea>. 
nut went on to explain the Scout sign and salute. 

“ Now, you all salute Mr. Rogers first,” said he. 
“ He’s Scout Master. His orders go above every- 
body’s, and you always salute him when you meet 
him anywhere. Line up and salute ! ” 

The recruits lined up, and saluted the Scout Master, 
who saluted gravely in return. 

“ Now, salute me I ” cried Peanut. 

They saluted him. 

“ More snap in it 1 ” Peanut urged. “ See, this 
way ! ” 

He clicked his heels together, and brought his 
three fingers up to his cap rim with a snap, standing 
very straight. “ Try it again,” he said. “ Stand up 
straight, now I Ah, that’s better I ” 

The significance of the badge was next explained, 
and Mr. Rogers then took a hand and told about the 
composition of the American flag. 

“ Now, for the knots,” said Peanut. 

“ Knots ? ” asked two or three of the new boys. 
“ What are knots for? ” 

“To hold things together, usually,” Peanut an- 
swered. “ What did you think they were for, to eat ? ” 

Mr. Rogers touched him on the shoulder. 
“ That’s not the way to talk,” he whispered. 

Peanut colored. “ You’re right,” he said. “ I 
forgot they were green kids.” 



♦ 


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PEANUT ENROLLS HIS NEW PATROL 55 

“We Scouts all have to know how to tie certain 
knots,” he explained to the boys, “because when 
you are in the woods, or on a boat, or most any- 
where, it’s mighty useful, no, necessary knowledge. 
You have to tie a boat fast, for instance, but you 
gotter tie it so you can tmtie it easily when you 
want it. Come on, now, and we’ll learn.” 

He took two boys. Art took two, and Frank and 
Lou each a couple, and for half an hour they 
practiced bowlines, halter hitches, timber hitches, 
and several more knots. 

Then Peanut clapped his hands for attention. 

“ Now, you fellows, you each get a manual,” said 
he, “ and you take it home and study what we’ve 
been over to-night. Then you come back here day 
after to-morrow evening and bring a quarter each 
for your book, and take an examination. Better 
practice up on those knots at home, too ! All that 
pass will take the Scout oath, and be enrolled as 
tenderfeet. Then we’ll see about changing the 
name, eh. Cop?” 

“ What are we goin’ to do now ? ” somebody asked. 

“ Well, we might have a drill, I guess,” Peanut 
answered. 

“Aw, no, let’s play hide-and-seek,” said Cop. 
“ There’s some dandy places around here to hide in, 
and it’s good and dark.” 

“ And you don’t want to be called a Brave Baby I ” 


56 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Peanut answered scornfully. “We ain’t — aren’t — 
here to play baby’s games. We’re here to become 
Scouts. We gotter have some drill to set us up, so 
we can march right and — and all that. Come on 
now — setting up exercises first.” 

He stood the boys up in two rows, each boy far 
enough from the next so that their fingers didn’t 
touch when they held their arms straight out on 
either side, and then he put them through a series 
of setting up exercises. Art, Lou, Frank and Mr. 
Rogers stood up, too, in front of the boys, facing 
them, and went through the exercises which Peanut 
led. 

One of the exercises was to put the palms of the 
hands together in front, arms straight out, and then 
swing the arms as far back as possible, coming up 
on the toes each time. Another was to put the 
hands up over the head, and then bend forward, 
without bending the knees, until the finger tips, if 
possible, touched the floor. This was repeated ten 
times, and was followed by groans and back twist- 
ings among the recruits. 

“ That’ll take the kinks out of your backs and put 
a couple of inches onto your height, if you do it every 
morning when you get up,” Peanut told them. 
“ Come on, now. I’ll show you another one.” 

Putting his hands on his hips. Peanut squatted 
down till he sat on his heels, and then stood up 


PEANUT ENROLLS HIS NEW PATROL 57 

again. “ See that ? ” said he. ** Now everybody do 
it with me ten times.” 

He squatted and rose, squatted and rose, steadily 
and rather rapidly, ten times. At the ninth time one 
or two of the boys lost their balance and tumbled 
over. After the tenth time Mr. Rogers, whose face 
was a bit flushed with the exertion, said, “ Well, 
that’s about enough for me. I’m not as young as 
you fellows.” 

“ Ho,” cried Cop, “ that’s nothin’ 1 I could do it 
all night.” 

“ You could, could you?” said Peanut, facing on 
him. “Well, you stand out in front of me, and 
we’ll try it. Come on I ” 

Cop looked a little sheepish, but he didn’t dare 
refuse, after his boast, so he and Peanut faced each 
other, and Peanut set the pace. He set a good one, 
too. He was slim, and Cop was stout, and it was 
easier for him to squat. Down and up, down and 
up, down and up he went, five times more, ten times, 
fifteen times. Cop was getting red in the face, and 
fast losing his wind. But Peanut kept remorselessly 
on. Twenty times, twenty-five times, thirty times. 

“Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four,” 
counted Old Hundred, aloud. “Thirty ” 

But before he finished that count, Cop flopped. 
The muscles of his thighs simply collapsed, and he 
fell down in. a heap. 


58 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“You could keep it up all night, could you?” 
said Peanut. “ We’ve been doing it about five 
minutes, I guess. It don’t — doesn’t pay to boast. 
Cop. That’s one of the things you learn when 
you’re a Scout.” 

Cop got up, rubbing his weary legs, and looked 
sheepish. 

“Well, I got Cop’s goat, anyway,” Peanut said to 
Mr. Rogers, after the meeting broke up. “ How 
did it go ? ” 

“ It went first rate,” the Scout Master answered. 
“ Only you must be careful not to hurt the feelings 
of some of the boys. You must remember that some 
of them aren’t so quick as you are, and all of ’em 
are younger. It takes a lot of patience to be a Scout 
Master.” 

“ I s’ pose patience is one of the things a feller’s 
got to learn, if he’s going to be a reporter,” Peanut 
mused. 

“ If he’s going to be anything,” Mr. Rogers 
answered. 

Two evenings later the Brave Babies came back 
for their test. They had all worked hard, even Cop, 
over the knots, and they were familiar with the other 
requirements. 

“ You’d better give them the oath,” said Peanut to 
Mr. Rogers. “ You’re the Big Chief.” 

The new patrol lined up, and each boy held up his 


PEANUT ENROLLS HIS NEW PATROL 59 

right hand, thumb on the little finger tip, and the 
other three fingers raised (the Scout sign), and 
solemnly took the Scout oath. 

On my honor I will do my best : 

1. To do my duty to God and my country, and 

to obey the Scout law ; 

2. To help other people at all times ; 

3. To keep myself physically strong, mentally 

awake, and morally straight. 

‘‘Now,” said Mr. Rogers shaking hands with 
each boy, “ I welcome you as tenderfeet of the new 
Southmead patrol. Your special Scout Master will 
be Bobbie Morrison, and you will obey him.” 

“ Hello, Brave Babies,” cried Peanut. “ Welcome 
to our city ! ” 

He, too, shook hands with each new Scout. 

“ Now, don’t we get a name ? ” said Cop. 

“ All right, what’ll we call this patrol ? Got any 
ideas ? ” Peanut replied. 

“ Might call it the Brave Patrol,” Jimmy Gerson 
suggested. He was the smallest boy of the eight, 
and played short stop. 

“ Can’t, Jimmy,” said Mr. Rogers. ‘‘ We have to 
name our patrols after some animal.” 

“ The Wildcats I ” cried Old Hundred. ‘‘ That 
sounds scrappy, all right ! ” 

‘‘ Hooray ! ” came a chorus. 


6o 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Eats ^em alive, eh ? ” laughed Peanut. “ All 
those in favor of the Wildcat Patrol say * Aye.’ ” 

“ Aye I ” came a chorus from eight throats, so 
loud that Mr. Rogers said it sounded more like 
wildcats than boys. 

'‘Just the same, you can call yourselves wildcats 
all you like, but other folks are going to call you 
Brave Babies still,” laughed Peanut. “ That name’s 
too good to lose.” 

" Aw, forget it I ” wailed Cop. 

" Now what are we goin’ to do ? ” demanded 
Jimmy Gerson. “ Don’t we have to learn to signal, 
and cook — and things like that ? ” 

“You bet you do,” said Peanut. “You fellows 
have all got to pass the second class Scout test 
before the summer is over, or my name’s Dennis. 
Come on, we’ll have some signal drill to-night.” 

He got out the flags, and told the new patrol how 
he and Rob had signaled from the top of Mount 
Jefferson to the top of Mount Adams the summer 
before, and brought help for an injured woman. 

“ You see, it ain’t — isn’t — ^just in war signaling 
comes in handy,” he said. “ Be prepared — that’s 
the Scout motto. If you know signaling, you can 
tie two handkerchiefs on two sticks, and talk as far 
as you can see ’em.” 

The new patrol then took their manuals, opened 
at the page showing the semaphore signal code, and 


PEANUT ENROLLS HIS NEW PATROL 6i 


began to practice. They got as far as E that even- 
ing. Peanut made sure that each of the eight boys 
had mastered the first five letters. 

“ Now, you can rig up some flags at home, and 
practice the rest all you want to,” said he. “ The 
first tenderfoot that learns the whole alphabet gets 


“ A what ? ” said Cop. 

“Well, I’m trying to think. He’ll be assistant 
patrol leader, and serve when Old Hundred’s not on 
the job. Now, Cop, how’d you like some setting up 
exercises before we quit for the night ? ” 

“ I ain’t sufferin’ for ’em,” said Cop, with a grin. 

“ Still, I think we’ll have some. None of you fel- 
lers stand up straight enough.” 

Peanut put the new patrol through ten minutes of 
setting up drill before he sent them home. 

“ Ball game Saturday,” said he, “and the first hike 
Monday. Meet here at eight-thirty Monday morn- 
ing, and get measured for Scout suits. You want 
to bring grub for the hike, too, and hatchets. You’ll 
all need packs and a lot of things, but we can’t wait 
till they come before we do some Scout work. If a 
couple of you bring hatchets Monday it will be 
enough, but everybody bring something to cook for 
lunch.” 

“ How’ll we cook it ? ” Cop asked. 

Peanut started to say, “ On a cake of ice,” but 


62 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


he recalled Mr. Rogers’ warning in time. “ You 
can cook a lamb chop on a forked stick,” he an- 
swered, ‘‘ or potatoes in the coals. If you bring 
bacon, you’ll have to bring a fry pan, too. Any- 
body that wants tea bring a tin cup, and a kettle 
to boil water in — and some tea leaves might be 
useful.” 

(“ Couldn’t resist that crack,” he whispered to Mr. 
Rogers, who had been watching all the evening with- 
out saying a word.) 

Mr. Rogers smiled. “ I guess that didn’t hurt 
anybody,” he said. “ It’s going fine now. Peanut. 
Your trouble is going to come in three or four 
weeks, after the novelty wears off, and you’ve got 
to find ways to keep ’em interested. Keep your 
brains working.” 

“You bet I will,” the boy answered. “I’m goin’ 
to earn my twenty-five dollars a month, or — or give 
it back.” 

“ That’s the spirit,” said the Scout Master patting 
him on the back. 


CHAPTER VI 

The First Tenderfoot Hike 

W HEN Peanut and Art reached the Scout 
House Monday morning they found most of 
the Wildcat Patrol already there, with a varied as- 
sortment of grub and cooking utensils. Cop was so 
comical that neither of the older boys could help tip- 
ping back his head and shouting with laughter. 

In the first place, he had a carpenter’s shingle 
hatchet tied to his belt on the right side by a piece 
of string. On the other side was tied a large iron 
frying-pan, which was so long that it couldn’t be 
fastened by the handle without hitting his heels, so 
Cop had wound string around the pan part, and 
bound that tightly to his side. The handle stuck 
down like a sword scabbard. One pocket of his coat 
was bulging out, and Peanut, giving it a thump, dis- 
covered that it contained a whole jar of bacon. In 
one hand Cop had a long rake handle, sharpened at 
the end, for a staff, and in the other a paper pack- 
age, which he said contained a loaf of bread. 

“ Say, do you think we are going to stay a week, 
and set up housekeeping ? ” Peanut laughed. 

63 


64 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Well, I wanted enough to eat,” Cop declared, 
“ A feller can’t hike all day on nothin’.” 

“ A lot of hiking you could do with that sheet iron 
factory tied to you,” Peanut replied. “ Gee, you fel- 
lers have got to get the proper kits pretty quick, if 
we’re going to do any real hiking. What have you 
got there, Jimmy ? ” 

Little Jimmy Gerson, the tiny short stop, picked up 
a black iron kettle, which had been on the ground be- 
side him. “ You said bring a kettle if we wanted 
tea,” he answered, cheerfully. “ I got the tea, too — 
and sugar I ” He fished in his pockets, bringing out 
two large sandwiches, wrapped in paper, two pota- 
toes, and then a small pasteboard box. “Tea and 
sugar in there,” said he. 

Peanut laughed again, and picked up the iron ket- 
tle. “ It weighs about five pounds,” he said to Art. 
“ Show ’em your kit.” 

Art slung off his pack, and opened it, while the 
tenderfeet gathered around. He took out first a 
small aluminum pot, for boiling water, and opened it, 
showing inside a piece of steak, a potato, two slices 
of bread, a package of sweet chocolate and a little tea 
and four lumps of sugar in a small cotton sack. 
Then he took out an aluminum plate, a knife, fork 
and spoon, and a small, light frying-pan, with a 
detachable handle. Finally he brought forth his fold- 
ing wire grill for cooking meat, joined it, and showed 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 65 

how it stood over a fire. Out of the pocket of his 
pack he produced a piece of soap and a small towel. 

“You always feel better if you get a good wash 
before a meal,” he explained. 

Then he brought from the pockets of his Scout 
coat a compass, a water-proof match safe and a fold- 
ing drinking cup, and, taking off his coat, showed 
his sheath hatchet fastened to his belt. 

“ Now, that’s something like an outfit,” said Pea- 
nut. “ I’ve got about the same thing in my pack. 
One of the first things you fellers have got to do is to 
save up and get kits. It’s no fun hiking when you 
have to carry ’round a whole hardware store, like 
Cop I You leave your kettle behind, Jimmy. Art’s 
and mine will be enough. Cop, take off that boiler 
factory effect I ” 

“ Aw, can I keep the hatchet ? ” 

“ Yes, you can keep that.” 

“ It isn’t sheathed,” Art cautioned. “ If we go 
over Bald Face Mountain he might get a fall or 
something, and cut himself. You and I have hatchets 
— that’s enough.” 

“ Right, oh,” Peanut replied. “ Off with the axe. 
Cop ! ” 

“ Aw, can’t I carry nothinH ? ” Cop complained. 

“ Well, you’ve got a meat market in your pocket 
and a bake shop in your hand. What more do you 
want ? ” 


66 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ That ainT nothin’,” said Cop. 

‘‘ So you thought about the setting up exercise,” 
Peanut retorted. 

Old Hundred and the rest shouted at this, and Cop 
was silent. 

Peanut now inspected the footwear of the new 
patrol. Eddie Reynolds and Pete Perkins both had 
on sneakers. 

“No good,” said Peanut, shaking his head. 
“ They might be all right if we stuck to the roads 
and fields, but if we go over Bald Face you’ll cut the 
soles all to pieces on the rocks. Anyhow, sneaker 
soles aren’t stout enough to keep your feet right on a 
long hike. Go back home, both of you, and get on 
your stoutest shoes — put on your winter water-proof 
boots if you’ve got ’em. Hustle, now — we’ll be getting 
measured for Scout suits while you’re gone. Beat it I ” 

Eddie and Pete started off on the run, and Peanut 
took the measurements of the other boys while they 
were gone, including hat size. 

“ Hope the uniforms’ll be here before the next 
hike,” he said. “ You’re a pretty looking squad now, 
you are ! ” 

He lined them up with a laugh. One boy had a 
straw hat on, one had a red cap, another had a blue, 
another a brown, another a gray. Cop wore a pair 
of baseball trousers, too large for him, the gift of 
an older brother. 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 67 

“ Never mind,” said Art, “ we’ll have ’em looking 
like West Point on parade before the summer is 
over.” 

As soon as Eddie and Pete came back. Peanut 
gave the order to march. He lined them up two by 
two, with Old Hundred as patrol leader, marching 
with Cop at the front. The two Scout Masters (for 
Peanut insisted that Art was now really a Scout 
Master, too) marched at one side. 

“ Come on, now, you Wildcats, keep step ! ” Pea- 
nut cried. “ One, two, three — march I Left — left — 
left — what’s the matter with your feet. Cop ; don’t 
you know your left from your right ? Get into step I 
That’s better. Left — left — left^ 

The patrol reached the road. “ Column right — 
march I ” commanded Old Hundred. They wheeled 
to the right, and tramped down the village street. 

“ Say, we orter have a band I ” piped Jimmy, who 
because he was so small marched in the rear with 
Skinny Buxton. 

“ Whistle, then,” said Peanut. 

Everybody began to whistle “ It’s a long way to 
Tipperary,” and to this tune the patrol marched on. 

At the next corner two other boys were standing, 
members of the nine which the new patrol had 
played that first Saturday after they had rolled the 
diamond. 

Hi, look at the new Scouts,” one of them shouted. 


68 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Brave Babies ! Brave Babies I ” he taunted, and 
the other took up the cry, too. 

Cop started out of the rank, as if to make for the 
two on the corner. “ Come on, let’s show ’em I ” he 
cried. 

Peanut sprang forward. “ Get back in the 
column!” he commanded. “You obey orders! 
Nobody gave any command to break ranks.” 

“ Aw, let’s give those guys a trimming ! ” said Cop. 

“ You’ll get a trimming if you don’t get back 
there, and keep step,” said Peanut. “ What do you 
care what they say ? ” 

“ Babies ! Babies ! ” came the taunt from the 
corner again. 

“ Aw, just let me at ’em once !” Cop pleaded. 

“ If you didn’t mind it, they wouldn’t say any- 
thing,” Art laughed. 

Cop grumbled, but he marched on. Soon they 
were out of the village, on the open country road, 
and here Peanut gave orders to break ranks. 

“ Now’d be a good time to see if we can all pass 
test number five for second class Scouts,” he said. 
“ Tell ’em what it is. Old Hundred.” 

“ I know !” piped Jimmy. 

“ Well, if you know so much, you tell.” 

“ It’s fifty steps dog trot, and then fifty steps 
walking, an’ then fifty steps dog trot, an’ so on, an’ 
you have to do a mile in twelve minutes.” 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 69 

“ Correct,” said Peanut. “ Got on your pedom- 
eter, Art ? ” 

“ Yes,” Art answered. “ But I don’t need it. It’s 
exactly a mile from the next house to the cross- 
road. I’ve paced it off more’n once.” 

“ Good, we’ll start at the next house, then.” 

A moment later Peanut gave the command. Art 
consulted his watch, and the patrol started up the 
road on the dog trot, one, two, three paces, and so 
on up to fifty. Then, panting a little, they settled 
down to a walk again. After fifty walking steps, the 
dog trot was resumed. When they had thus alter- 
nated a few times, it became evident that some of 
the boys could go much faster than the others. 

“ You go ahead with the fast ones,” said Art, who 
wasn’t much of a runner, “ and I’ll take the others. 
Stop at the crossroads.” 

Peanut, Old Hundred, Spike Morrisey, and little 
Jimmy Gerson, who, in spite of his size (or his lack 
of size), seemed to be able to keep up without losing 
his wind, were soon far ahead of the rest of the 
party, who trailed along behind, with Cop Stanley 
clutching at the jar of bacon in his coat pocket to 
keep it from slapping against his side, and puffing 
and panting while the sweat ran down his forehead. 

Presently Art saw the party ahead stop at the 
crossroad. He looked at his watch. “They did 
the mile in ten and a quarter minutes,” he said. 


70 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Come on, fellers, we’ve got to hit it up to get there 
under twelve I ” 

“ I’m g-goin’ ter throw away this j-jar o’ bacon ! ” 
puffed Cop. 

“ Don’t you dare I ” cried Art. “ I’m expecting to 
eat some of that myself I Besides, a Scout never 
throws away his provisions except in a desperate 
emergency. Stick it out 1 ” 

“ A-all r-right,” Cop answered, trying to clutch 
the jar with his hand so the weight would not pull 
on his shoulder. 

This second detachment' made the crossroads in a 
shade under the required twelve minutes, but they 
had to hit up the pace on the last few hundred feet, 
and all of them dropped panting on the ground. 

“ Wow ! But I’m out of condition,” said Art. 
“Too much school and too little exercise, I guess. 
I’m as slow as — as Cop.” 

“ Aw, Cop’s too fat to run,” laughed Old Hun- 
dred. 

“ W-w-wait till I get m-my b-breath, and I’ll show 
you I ” Cop replied. 

“ Anyhow, all eight tenderfeet passed the test,” 
cried Peanut. “ That’s the main point. That’s just 
so much gained toward becoming second class 
Scouts. We’ll rest a minute, and when we start up 
I’ll show you all the Indian lope-walk. It beats the 
Scout pace for speed and distance.” 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 71 

“ Say, what do you think we are, Marathon run- 
ners ? ” laughed Art. 

“ Aw, cut it out ! It’s too hot ! ” said Cop, who 
had got his breath back by now. 

“ I’ll learn it — bet / can do it ! ” piped up Jimmy 
Gerson. 

“You’re all right, Jimmy,” said Peanut. “You 
haven’t got lungs ; the Lord built you around a pair 
of bellows. You and I’ll do the Indian lope, eh ? ” 

“ Me, too,” said Spike Morrisey and Old Hundred, 
in one breath. 

Art turned to the other boys and laughed. “ We’ll 
let the split rails go ahead, and we’ll follow after in 
comfort,” he said. 

“ Well, I bet I could do their old Indian lope if I 
didn’t have this bacon jar,” declared Cop. 

“ I’ll carry it for you,” said little Jimmy, with a 
perfectly solemn face. 

The laugh was on Cop, and he had to grin himself. 

“ Naw, it’s too heavy for you, Jimmy,” he said, 
getting out as best he could. 

When the patrol moved on, with recovered wind. 
Peanut showed them the Indian loping walk, and 
everybody, even Cop, tried it for a short distance. 
This walk is hard to describe. It is half-way between 
the old-fashioned heel and toe walk, which probably 
few boys who read this book have ever seen — it was 
dropped from the list of events in track meets many 


72 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


years ago — and an ordinary dog trot. In the first 
place, you bend your knees a little, and then, 
crouching over your feet, as it were, you put out one 
foot not very far ahead, setting down the heel and 
rocking forward upon the toe. That swings out the 
other foot, and you repeat. The steps are much 
shorter than in the dog trot, and one foot is always 
on the ground, as in the old heel and toe walking. 
But the motion is much easier and smoother than in 
the old-fashioned walk. A good, strong boy or man 
can, with practice, make a mile in eight minutes or 
less this way, and at a ten minute rate you can keep 
up the pace for quite a distance. The Indians, they 
say, used to keep it up for fifty or sixty miles a day. 

But the Wildcat Patrol, following Peanut down the 
road toward Bald Face Mountain, very soon found 
that it can’t be done without practice, because walk- 
ing with the knees bent very quickly tires the back 
leg muscles which aren’t trained for this step. One 
by one the boys dropped into a natural walk and 
fell behind, till only Peanut, Old Hundred and little 
Jimmy were left. Finally Old Hundred, with a 
laugh, quit too, and began to rub his legs behind his 
knees. Peanut and Jimmy kept on. 

“ You been practicing this I ” the little fellow 
panted. 

“ Sure,” said Peanut. 

^ “I ain’t — takes practice — makes my legs ache.” 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 


73 


“ Mine, too.” 

Neither boy was prepared to give in. Jimmy’s 
forehead and face were covered with perspiration. 
He was getting very short breathed. But he stuck 
to Peanut’s heels. 

Finally the young Scout Master looked around at 
him, and saw how tired he was. “ I don’t believe 
he’d give in if it was killing him,” thought Peanut, 
“ the plucky little tad I ” 

The older boy stopped short. “ That’s enough for 
me,” he exclaimed. 

Well, I’d ’a’ kept on I ” panted Jimmy. 

“ I bet you would,” said Peanut. “ You’re going 
to be a regular Scout.” 

Jimmy flushed with pleasure, and wiped his hot 
face. 

“ Maybe Cop can lick me with his fists, but he 
can’t with his legs,” said he. 

“ Cop’s a great fighter with his face,” laughed Pea- 
nut. “We’ll take some of that out of him before we 
get through.” 

The two Scouts were surprised, on looking back, 
to see how far ahead of the others the Indian lope 
walk had carried them in a very few minutes. “ It 
certainly does get you over the ground ! ” said Pea- 
nut. 

They waited till the rest came up, and then they 
all struck off across the fields toward the white cliffs 


74 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


of Bald Face Mountain, which rose up sharply out of 
the woods a half a mile or so away. 

“ Say, are we goin’ up those cliffs ? ” Cop de- 
manded. 

“ Not to-day,” Peanut replied. “ You fellers have 
got to learn more about climbing before we tackle 
them. Don’t you know there’s a path up ? ” 

“ I’ve heard there was,” said Cop. 

‘‘ Heard? Didn’t you ever climb Bald Face ? ” 

Cop shook his head. 

“ Well, I’ll be switched,” said Art. “ A mountain 
right here two or three miles from the post-office, and 
you never went up it ! ” 

“ Neither did I,” said Eddie Reynolds. 

Nor I.” 

‘‘Nor me.” 

“ Nor me,” came from other boys. 

“I’ve been up!” piped jimmy. “Me an’ my 
father went up after arbutus last spring. The path 
goes zigzagging up there to the right.” 

“ You’re a regular Scout, Jimmy,” said Peanut 
again. “ Gee, the rest of you ginks sure need the 
Scouts to show you a thing or two I Think of never 
climbing a mountain right in your own front yard I ” 

Cop was looking at the cliffs, which were growing 
nearer now, and seemingly growing higher, too. 

“ Say,” he demanded, “ you mean to say we are 
ever goin’ to climb right straight up those cliffs ? ” 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 


75 


“ Maybe, when we’ve had some practice,” laughed 
Peanut. These aren’t much, are they. Art ? ” 

“ I should say not,” Art replied. “ You ought to 
see the head wall of Huntington Ravine on Mount 
Washington. Why, it’s five times as high as those 
cliffs ! ” 

“ Whew — excuse me ! ” said Cop. 

“ Besides, if we climb here*, we’ll go roped together, 
the way they do in the Alps,” said Peanut. “ Then 
if one man slips, the others hold him.” 

“ Good-night 1 ” said Spike Morrisey. “ Cop 
would either break the rope or pull us all off.” 

“Shut up,” said Cop, “ or I’ll ” 

“ You’ll get a setting up drill right now, if you’re 
not careful,” Peanut warned. 

Cop immediately assumed a less belligerent atti- 
tude. 

They had been climbing steadily as they talked, 
across a high pasture, and now they entered the 
woods by an old logging road, which turned off 
nearly parallel to the face of the cliffs, which were 
only dimly seen through the trees, and followed 
a brook up a sharp incline. After five minutes of 
walking, the road emerged into an open space, 
directly under the cliffs, and they had at last a close 
and unobstructed view. The whole patrol paused, 
and several of the boys drew a long breath. Only Art 
and Peanut had ever been up in the big mountains, 


76 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


and to the rest these white limestone cliffs, though 
only two or three hundred feet high, looked very high 
indeed now that they stood under their shadow. 

At the foot of the cliffs directly above them was a 
huge pile of broken rock, hurled down from above 
by the frosts of ages. This pile sloped up rather 
gradually perhaps thirty or forty feet. Then the 
cliff began, perpendicular in places, in other places 
sloping a little, with ledges where stunted spruces 
were growing, and cracks, seams and gullies running 
up and down its face. 

“ There’s a good lead to the first ledge. Art,” 
Peanut said, pointing to a gully which rose at an 
angle from the top of the rock pile to a shelf where 
an evergreen perched. 

“Yes,” Art replied, “and there seems to be 
another lead going on to the next ledge. Gee, I 
bet we could climb that cliff, easy 1 ” 

“ Come on, let’s try ! ” cried little Jimmy, shaking 
with excitement. 

“ Wow, I’d like to ! ” answered Peanut, looking 
longingly at the frowning wall of rock. 

“ Hold your horses,” Art cautioned. “ We’ve got 
a troop of tenderfeet to look after.” 

“You’re right,” said Peanut. “Some day, 
though ” 

“ I wouldn’t risk it unless Mr. Rogers was along,” 
Art answered. 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 


77 


Jimmy hung back as the rest of the troop started 
up the path. 

“ Say ! ” he called. “ This would make a dandy 
place for a hut. Golly, you could put a hut up on 
one of those ledges, an’ hide it behind a spruce, an’ 
I’ll bet nobody could find you.” 

The rest of the boys looked back at the cliff again. 

“ That’s so,” said Art. “ I’ll bet there are caves in 
those cliffs, too. Might make a hut in a cave.” 

How are you goin’ to get to your old hut?” Cop 
demanded. 

“ Have a rope ladder,” cried Jimmy. “ Golly, 
wouldn’t that be fun I ” 

“ Well, how would you hide your hut if you had a 
rope ladder hangin’ down ? An’ if you had to have 
a rope ladder to get to your hut, how’d you get to 
it in the first place to fasten the top of the ladder ? ” 
Cop spoke scornfully, and poor little Jimmy was at a 
loss for a reply. 

‘‘That’s easy,” said Art. “ You could climb up to 
a ledge above the one where you were going to 
build, and then drop down to it on a rope, and 
lower your ladder, hiding it when you weren’t 
around in some crack in the rocks.” 

“Sure, that’s the way you could do it!” said 
Jimmy. “ Let’s try.” 

“ Sure, let’s try I ” cried two or three of the other 
tenderfeet. 


78 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“Where’s your rope?” laughed Peanut. “No, 
sir, we don’t break our necks to-day, not while Pm 
boss. Besides, how’d you get your rope down, after 
you’d slid down it to your hut ? ” 

This was more than even Art could answer. 

They walked on up the logging road, beside the 
brook, which splashed and gurgled over its steep, 
rocky bed. Art was silent. He was evidently 
thinking. 

“ Say,” he presently cried, “ I’ve got an idea ! ” 

“ Come across, before it hurts you,” said Peanut. 

“What Jimmy said suggested it to me,” Art went 
on. “ It’s to invent a kind of game called hut hunt- 
ing. We could divide up in parties of two — that 
would make five parties — and each pair would build 
a hut somewhere on this mountain. We’d have to 
decide just how much of the mountain we could use, 
’cause it would be too hard if we used all of it. It 
goes way over into the next town on the other side. 
Then, after we got the huts built each team would 
try to find the other teams’ huts. The hut that got 
found last would win, of course. Maybe the rest 
would have to cook a dinner for the winning team, 
or something.” 

“ Say, Art, how’d you do it ? ” cried Peanut. 
“ That’s a real idea I ” 

“You bet it is,” several of the other Scouts ex- 
claimed. 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 79 

“ How’d we tell who found whose hut ? ” asked 
Old Hundred. 

“ Couldn’t each team have a special sign, and put 
it on each hut they found with a piece of chalk ? ” 
Skinny Buxton suggested. 

“ Good — and the date under it,” said Art. ** The 
team that got its marks on the most huts might get 
in on the dinner, too.” 

“ Can we come out and sleep all night in our 
huts ? ” cried Jimmy. “ Wow ! that would be fun I ” 

“ Sure,” said Peanut. “ The day the hunting is to 
begin we’ll all come ready to spend the night. We’ll 
live two days on the mountain and Mr. Rogers can 
come the second day and be judge I ” 

“ Oh, let’s begin now I ” cried Jimmy, dancing up 
and down with excitement. 

“ Nix,” said Peanut. “ You’ve all got to get your 
equipment first, and have some lessons in cooking 
and tracking. There isn’t a one of you yet, except 
Old Hundred, that knows how to spend a night 
outdoors.” 

The troop moved on up the trail, each boy 
thinking more of huts than anything else, and keep- 
ing his eye peeled for possible sites. Presently the 
trail turned out of the logging road, sharp to the 
left, and headed straight for the top of the mountain. 
It was a short but breathless scramble through the 
trees to the saddle between the two summits of the 


8o 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


mountain. Once on this saddle, the trail again 
turned to the left, and climbed up over broken rock 
to the top of the cliffs the Scouts had seen from 
below. At this point each boy, with a shout, started 
forward on his own hook, in an effort to be the first 
to reach the peak. It became a race between Pea- 
nut and Jimmy, and Peanut was sorely tempted to 
win it, as he knew he could. But he knew how 
proud the little fellow would be, so he pretended 
to trip and fall just short of the last rocks, and 
Jimmy, with a cry of triumph, sprang ahead and 
waved his cap triumphantly on the topmost crag. 

Here, on the rocky peak, there was nothing but a 
few blueberry bushes and a stunted spruce or two. 
The mountain sloped away rather gradually on the 
side toward the next town, but on the side toward 
Southmead it was everywhere very steep, and right 
under the Scouts’ feet, of course, it dropped away 
with almost terrifying abruptness down the face of 
the cliffs to the woods below. Peanut kept the boys 
from going too near the edge. 

Far below them they could see the field they had 
crossed, and then the road, looking like a winding 
white ribbon. A motor car was going along it 
now. 

“ Say, this must be the way the land looks to an 
aviator,” somebody exclaimed. 

“Sure,” said Peanut. “ If you were a French air 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 8i 


scout, you could fly over and drop a bomb on that 
motor car, which contains a German general.” 

“ You’d want to be flying about four thousand 
feet higher than this before you tried it,” said Art, 
“ or you’d get a bullet in you.” 

“ Look, I can see the Congregational church steeple 
just as plain I ” cried Jimmy. 

“ And I can see my house, three miles off,” said 
Eddie Reynolds. 

“ Say, it’s fine and cool up here ! ” exclaimed Cop, 
taking off his coat with the heavy jar of bacon in 
the pocket, and wiping his face. 

“ Could you signal from here down to the road ? ” 
asked Jimmy. 

“ Sure,” Peanut answered. ** You run along back 
down there, and see.” 

Jimmy looked serious. “Would I have time be- 
fore lunch ? ” he asked. 

“ You might if you jumped off the cliff,” Pea- 
nut laughed. “That would get you down quick. 
Look, there’s a man walking along the road. You 
could see if he waved a handkerchief, couldn’t 
you ? ” 

The boys agreed they could. 

“ Well, then, he could see us, so we could signal. 
Say, we must hurry up and learn signaling.” 

Everybody sat down on the rocks in the cool 
breeze, with the world spread out below them like a 


82 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


map, and began to plan out how much of the moun- 
tain to use for the hut hunting game. 

“ There are ten of us, so there’ll be five huts,” 
said Art. “ It would be too easy if we got ’em 
close together. I think we ought to use any part of 
the mountain between the fields down there and this 
summit ridge. We might go as far south as the 
end of the cliffs, and as far back toward Southmead 
as the big cave.” 

“ Where’s the big cave ? ” asked several. 

“ Gosh 1 they don’t know where the cave is!” 
Peanut exclaimed. “ We’ll have to go home that 
way and show ’em. Art.” 

“ Sure,” Art answered. “ The big cave is about half 
a mile north of the trail we came up by. It will make 
a good mark for one end of the hut territory. It’s 
not so steep there as these cliffs, but it’s pretty steep 
at that, and thick woods. It’s going to be some job 
finding all five huts over such a big stretch. I guess 
the team who finds ’em all will earn a supper.” 

“ The real job’s going to be to get ’em built with- 
out being caught, seems to me,” said Peanut. 

Well, that will depend on how smart the team 
is,” Art answered. “We needn’t set the date for 
hunting till a month from now, and everybody’ll 
have time to sneak down here and work.” 

“ Let’s divide up into teams now,” cried Jimmy. 
“ I want Peanut ! ” 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 83 

“ Aw, no I” said Cop. “You ’n’ he are the fastest 
runners I ” 

“ Well, we can’t run away with the hut, can we?” 
Peanut laughed. “We aren’t going to play tag. 
Jimmy’s the smallest, and I’m the Scout Master. I 
think that’s only a fair team.” 

“ Then I choose Art,” said Cop. 

“ No, I ought to take the next smallest,” Art an- 
swered. “ I’ll team up with Skinny Buxton.” 

“ You and Old Hundred team up — you’re the 
battery,” said Peanut to Cop. “Then Spike and 
Albert, and Eddie and Pete. That’s a good, 
fair division. We’ll decide later when the hunting 
is going to begin. Now, for lunch, and a cooking 
lesson I ” 

The troop went down the trail again as far as the 
brook, and the Scout Masters set each boy to making 
his own fire pit out of stones. As usual with a 
crowd of tenderfeet, there were some queer looking 
pits. Art, who was an expert on fires and cooking, 
went around and criticized each one, showing the 
boys how to make them better, how to leave one 
end open for a draft, how to cut forks and a cross- 
bar of green wood to hang a kettle on, and so forth. 
When all the pits had been properly built. Art and 
Peanut gave two of the boys their sheath hatchets, 
and told them to cut fuel. 

“ You’ve got to demonstrate that you know how 


84 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


to use an ax before you can be a second class Scout, 
you know,” Art said. 

Peanut watched Jimmy Gerson cutting down a 
small green moosewood tree. 

“ You’re cutting all right, Jimmy,” he said, “ but 
what are you going to do with it when you have it 
cut?” 

“ Pm going to make a fire,” said Jimmy. 

“ Well, you’ll need about a gallon of kerosene to 
make it burn,” Peanut laughed. “ Got any kerosene 
with you ? ” 

The little fellow looked very shamefaced. 

“Dead wood — but dry, not rotten, old Scout,” 
said Peanut, in a kindly voice, to cheer him up. 
“You can’t burn green wood unless you have a big 
fire already going. Find some dead wood, and be 
sure it’s hard wood, too, not pine. You only want 
a little pine for kindlings.” 

Jimmy set off searching, and presently called to 
inquire if a certain fallen log was hard wood or not. 

Art went over to him. It was hemlock. “ Say, 
you fellows surely need some lessons about trees,” 
he said. “ Mark that down. Peanut ; it’s one thing 
more we’ve got to study. We’re going to have a 
busy little summer I ” 

When all the Scouts had shown what they could 
do with hatchets, and each had a pile of wood by 
his fire pit. Peanut ordered them all to get kindlings. 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 85 

This was easy here, for there were many small pines 
with dead lower branches which could be broken off 
by hand. 

“ Now, lay your fires,” the Scout Master or- 
dered. 

On this point neither of the older boys gave any 
help, and when the eight fires were laid. Art and 
Peanut distributed two matches apiece. “That’s 
all you get,” said Peanut. “ No fire, no lunch I ” 

Eight boys kneeled down by their fire pits, eight 
matches were struck, shielded by cap or hand, and 
eight attempts were made to light the fires. Four 
of them were successful, including Old Hundred’s. 
But he was already a second class Scout, and was 
only going through a review, as it were. The other 
four boys struck their second match, and tried 
again. 

Cop’s second match went out in a puff of wind. 
Jimmy got his fire lighted, and had jumped to his 
feet with a cry of joy, when the flame burned out 
the first kindlings underneath, the heavy wood 
collapsed, and put out the whole thing. Eddie 
Reynolds and Pete Perkins, however, kept their 
fires going. 

“Well, six of you have passed,” said Peanut, 
“ but Cop and Jimmy, as far as I can see, aren’t 
going to get any lunch.” 

Both boys looked glum and disappointed. 


86 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ The wind blew my bloomin’ old match out, oi- 
l’d ’a’ done it ! ” Cop complained. 

“ Sure,” said Art. “ There pretty generally is a 
wind outdoors. You didn’t shield your match care- 
fully enough, or let it get well going before you put 
it to the kindlings. What would you do if you 
were out alone, in the cold, with only one match to 
your name ? ” 

He then proceeded to show Cop how to protect a 
match from the wind, and how to have his first 
kindlings very small and inflammable, while Peanut 
was showing Jimmy how to lay his fire properly, so 
it wouldn’t collapse. On the second trial both boys 
got their fires going. 

Art and Peanut then started their own fires, and 
when the coals were hot enough the cooking began. 
It was very simple cooking on this first day, con- 
sisting mostly of broiled chops, fried bacon, and 
potatoes. 

Most of the boys had no idea how long it takes to 
bake a potato, so Art lent his frying-pan to one boy 
after another, and the potatoes were peeled, sliced, 
and fried in nice, sizzling bacon fat. The tenderfeet 
were still without the proper equipment of aluminum 
plates, forks, spoons, and so forth, and as they 
watched Art and Peanut draw their implements 
from their knapsacks and eat in comfort, all the boys 
agreed that about the first thing they’d do would be 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 87 

to earn not only the required dollar to put in the 
savings-bank, but enough more to purchase simple 
cooking equipments. 

However, everybody was hungry, and Art’s tea 
tasted good, too, as he filled their tin cups, and the 
meal went off gaily. 

“Now, what do we do?” said Peanut, as lunch 
was finished. 

“ Aw, we lie here and rest a while,” Cop answered. 

“ Cop’s like one of those boa-constrictors that eats 
ten rabbits and then goes to sleep for a week,” said 
Old Hundred. 

“ If I wa’n’t so full o’ bacon. I’d punch your head,” 
Cop retorted. 

“ Well, there’s something you do before you either 
rest or punch his head,” said Peanut. “ Come on, 
up with you, and clean camp ! Scouts never leave 
any mess around in the woods — or anywhere. 
Everybody burn up all his potato peels and paper 
bags, and everything.” 

“Now, what do we do?” the Scout Master con- 
tinued, after the ground was cleaned up. 

“I guess we ought to put out the fires,” Jimmy 
suggested. 

“ Almost human, Jimmy ; go to the head ! ” said 
Peanut. “ A good Scout never leaves a fire burning 
behind him to set the woods going. Cop, get up 
and fill the kettle at the brook ! ” 


88 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Aw, why should I do it ? ” 

“ ’Cause you’re so full of bacon. It’ll help digest 
your dinner, and keep you awake.” 

Cop brought a kettle of water obediently, and 
other Scouts filled their dippers, and the fires were 
all drenched out till not an ember smoked. 

“ Now, we’ll rest for half an hour,” said the Scout 
Master. 

Cop immediately rolled over, and closed his eyes. 
But the others lay on the cool moss and talked, each 
team in the hut contest keeping together and con- 
versing in whispers about their plans. They kept 
together when the start was made for home, with 
Peanut and Jimmy in the lead. Everybody was 
looking constantly to right and left for possible hid- 
ing places for the huts. 

They followed the old logging road northward 
about half-way up the side of the mountain for per- 
haps a half mile, and then Peanut, consulting with 
Art, struck back up the slope again, without any 
path, pushing and scrambling up a very steep in- 
cline, through tough laurel bushes and thick forest. 
It was hard work, and nobody talked very much. 

Presently they came flat up against a perpen- 
dicular ledge of rock, fifteen or twenty feet high. 

“ Here we are,” said Art. ‘‘The cave’s up there, 
just over this ledge.” 

“ The cave is, yes, but we’re not,” Peanut laughed. 


THE FIRST TENDERFOOT HIKE 89 

“ I’m stumped. I’ve always got to the cave from 
above.” 

“ Well, we can go along under this ledge till we 
find a place where we can get up,” said Art. 

” Gee, I know a better way than that,” Old Hun- 
dred put in. “ Cut down one of these trees and let 
it fall against the top of the ledge for a ladder.” 

This suggestion was hailed with delight, and a 
small tree, growing within four feet of the base of 
the ledge, was selected. When it fell, it hit the top 
of the ledge and rested there, making a pole ladder. 
One by one the boys shinned up it. 

On top of the ledge, they found themselves on a 
shelf of rock, facing another ledge, but one composed 
of broken fragments and not perpendicular. One of 
these fragments, however, projected out from the 
rest, and underneath it was a small hole, four or five 
feet across and about as many feet tall. 

“ There’s the cave,” said Art. “ Wait till I make 
a torch.” 

He looked for a birch tree but there was none in 
sight, so he picked out a dead hemlock, chopped off a 
long strip of the bark, and after some effort succeeded 
in lighting it. Then he stooped and entered the hole 
The rest followed him. Inside it was cold and damp, 
but the Scouts found a sort of chamber in which they 
could stand upright — indeed, they couldn’t touch the 
roof. This room went back for ten or fifteen feet. 


90 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ I bet there are bears in here I ” cried Jimmy, 

“ Guess there were once, all right,” said Art. 
“ But I don^t see any signs of ^em now.” 

He swept the blazing bark near the ground, and 
examined the floor of the cave. “No bones ! ” he 
laughed. 

“ This would be a good place for a hut, all right,” 
somebody suggested. 

“ Not if you want to hide it,” Art answered. 
“This is the first place everybody’ll look in. Now, 
let’s go back to the logging road, blazing trees as 
we go.” 

“ What do we want to blaze trees for ? ” asked 
Jimmy, as the boys one by one slid down the ladder. 

“So we can have a northern boundary to the hut 
area,” Art replied. “ No fair building a hut north 
of the line of blazes, or south of the end of the cliffs 
we saw this morning, or west of the summit of the 
mountain.” 

He and Peanut took out their hatchets, and the 
Scouts took turns in blazing trees as they plunged 
down toward the logging road. When the road 
was reached they made a big blaze on a tree be- 
side it, to show the boundary plainly, and headed 
homeward, tramping into the village street a good 
deal more dusty and tired than when they had left 
in the morning. 


CHAPTER VII 


Peanut and Jimmy Climb a Cliff 
AND Find a Cave 

HREE weeks from the date of the first hike was 



A finally selected as the day when the hut hunt- 
ing was to begin. It was agreed that the marking 
of huts shouldn’t commence till four in the afternoon. 
Everybody would spend the night in the huts, and 
the hunt would continue till some time the next day. 
On the second day, everybody was to meet at the 
spot where the first lunch had been cooked, with Mr. 
Rogers, the head Scout Master, make a trip from 
there to each hut, and then a dinner would be 
cooked at the hut of the winner, the winners not to 
have to provide any of the food, or do any of the 
cooking. 

During those three weeks the Wildcat Patrol did 
not entirely neglect Scout work. Mr. Rogers, Pea- 
nut and others gave them lessons every Monday 
night in signaling and drill. But it must be admitted 
that even Peanut, the leader, was so excited over the 
hut game that little else was thought of. To be 
sure, all the boys were caddying at the golf club 


92 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


part of the day, or otherwise working to earn money 
to buy the proper camp equipments. As fast as 
they brought the money in to Peanut, he took it to 
Mr. Rogers, and after one dollar had been deposited 
to the account of each boy in the savings-bank, 
there was a great poring over catalogues to see the 
prices of sheath hatchets, and nests of kettles, and 
fry pans and folding broilers and aluminum plates 
and folding cups. In building the huts, of course, 
hatchets were the most important things, and these 
were ordered first. But before the three weeks were 
up, most of the boys had other equipment beside to 
put in their Scout packs, which had now arrived 
along with the khaki uniforms and leather puttees. 
The Southmead Scouts all adopted leather puttees as 
part of their uniforms, for most of their hiking was in 
thick woods, often amid laurel brake, where such 
protection is almost essential. 

Of course each of the five teams had to build its 
hut unknown to the other four. Although the 
stretch of woods and cliffs on the mountain where 
they could work was almost a mile long and half a 
mile wide, it wasn’t easy to get in there without 
being detected, and still harder to cut down a tree 
or nail boards without the sound betraying you. 

As we cannot very well follow the building opera- 
tions of all five teams at once, we’ll begin with Pea- 
nut and little Jimmy, and tell what they did. 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF 93 

First of all, they held a meeting the very next day 
after the hike, and planned out their campaign. 

“ The main thing is to find the place for the hut,’^ 
said Peanut. “We can build it in a day, after we 
decide where to put it. If we build it too soon, 
there’s just so much more chance of detection. 
What we’ll do is to find the place for it, and then 
carry in boards one at a time or so, and hide them. 
Then we’ll build it only a day or two before the hunt- 
ing begins.” 

“ Hooray, when’ll we begin looking for a place ? ” 
cried Jimmy. 

“ Can you get up early ? ” asked Peanut. 

“ Sure.” 

“ Well, we’ll start before daylight to-morrow. 
Drink a glass of milk and eat a couple of crackers 
before you meet me, and bring one good board 
under your arm. Let’s see, meet me in front of the 
post-office at half-past three. Got a bike ? ” 

“ I can borrow dad’s.” 

“ O. K. That’ll save time.” 

The world was still almost dark the next morning 
when Peanut and Jimmy rode down the road on 
wheels, each with a board under his arm. The sun 
was just reddening the east when they reached the 
crossroads, left their wheels in the bushes, and started 
across the dew soaked pasture toward the white 
cliffs of the mountain. It was dark in the woods, 


94 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


but when they reached the clearing under the cliffs 
the sun had risen, making the great limestone walls 
all pink with its light. 

“ Now the first thing is to hide our boards,” said 
Peanut. “ Come on I ” 

He started climbing over the pile of loose stones 
at the foot of the cliff. After ten minutes of scram- 
bling, the two boys found a place where one large 
stone rested in such a way on top of the other stones 
that they could slip the boards in underneath, quite 
out of sight. 

“ Say, I dunno whether I can remember this place 
again,” said Jimmy, as the boards disappeared. 

“ Let’s take some bearings,” said Peanut. “ Look, 
it’s right in a line between that old dead chestnut in 
the woods and the crooked spruce there on the first 
edge of the cliff. Now, we’ll explore the cliff.” 

The boys climbed down from the rock pile, and 
turned southward, moving along through the dew 
soaked bushes, wet to the waists, directly under the 
cliff wall. They kept their eyes on the great wall of 
rocks above them. 

“ What we want to find if we can,” Peanut said, 
** is a place where a hut wouldn’t show from below at 
all, and that would look as if there couldn’t be any- 
thing there. If there was only a cave up there some 
place I ” 

They walked under the cliffs for nearly a quarter 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF 95 

of a mile without seeing anything which offered any 
hope. In some places, what ledges there were on 
the cliff wall were absolutely inaccessible from below. 
In other places, even where there was a lead up to 
them, the two boys could see that they afforded no 
chance to hide a hut. It would be plainly seen even 
from the road. 

But finally they came to a place where the cliffs 
began to grow less high. They were south of the 
summit of the mountain now, and the land was fall- 
ing away a little. In one place an easy lead, made 
by a deep gully in the rocks, led up to a wide ledge, 
on which several small spruces were clinging. 

“ Let’s go up there and see what we can find,” said 
Peanut. 

Then he sprang a surprise on Jimmy. He opened 
his coat and showed thirty feet of new clothes-line 
wrapped around his body. Unwinding this, he tied 
one end under Jimmy’s armpits, and left the other 
end tied to himself. 

“Some Alpine climbers, eh?” said he. 

“ You bet I ” said Jimmy, who was game for the ad- 
venture. 

Both boys had on heavy shoes. In Peanut’s 
shoes were heavy hobnails. He now took from his 
pocket some extra nails and a tiny implement like a 
skate key. 

“ Got these from the golf club pro last night,” said 


96 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

he. ** You've got to have 'em for this kind of 
work." 

The nails were screwed into Jimmy’s boots with 
the key, and the two started up the gully, Peanut 
leading. They had about thirty feet to go, or the 
height of an ordinary house. The angle of ascent 
was close to 90°, but there were plenty of cracks and 
jagged pieces of rock to use for footing. 

“Test everything with one foot before you lift 
your whole weight from the other. Same with your 
hands ! ” Peanut called back. “ And don’t look 
down. Keep looking up. Don’t start till I’m near 
the top." 

“ I get yer," said Jimmy, from below. 

In a very few minutes Peanut was on the ledge, 
and turned to help Jimmy along by pulling gently 
on the rope. 

“ Here we are ! ’’ he cried, as Jimmy scrambled 
out of the gully. 

They stood on an almost level ledge of rock about 
six feet wide, which was covered with a thin layer of 
soil and moss. The evergreens growing in the 
sparse soil were, however, sturdy and thick, though 
no taller than bushes. 

“ Gosh," said Jimmy, “ trees’ll grow most any- 
where I ’’ 

The ledge ran around a bend in the cliff ahead, 
and the boys followed it, treading cautiously. 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF 97 

“We don’t want to slip on this moss,” Peanut 
warned, “ and we don’t want to tear it up and leave 
tracks, either. Art can follow a track like an In- 
dian.” 

Around the bend they found that the ledge 
stopped short some thirty feet ahead, but just before 
it stopped, hidden completely from the view below 
by a couple of evergreens, was a tiny cave mouth, 
not more than two feet square. 

“ Quick, let’s see how big it is inside 1 ” Peanut 
shouted. 

Jimmy dove in like a rabbit, and disappeared com- 
pletely from sight. A moment later he crawled 
back. “ Got anything for a torch ? ” he said. 

Peanut felt in his pockets. He had a box of 
matches, but he had forgotten any materials for a 
torch. Finally they found a dead bough on one of 
the evergreens, and both boys crawled into the cave 
with it. 

Inside, after running along level for about six feet, 
the tunnel seemed suddenly to ascend. 

“ Seems to me I can see light up there,” said Pea- 
nut, before he struck a match. Then he lit the dead 
bough. By the sudden flare, the Scouts saw that the 
tunnel turned sharply upward, and standing erect in 
the narrow space and holding the blazing bough 
above them they could see that it went on for ten 
feet or more, and then seemed to widen out. 


98 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


But before they could see much more, the bough 
was burnt up. Matches had little effect. They tried 
to climb the damp, slippery tunnel in the dark, but 
it was no use. There was nothing to get hold of. 

“ Well, we’ll have to come again with a lantern,” 
said Peanut. “ I’ll bet there’s something doing up 
there. We can’t work any more to-day, though.” 

They crawled back to the ledge and he looked at 
his watch. “ Gee, after six o’clock 1 ” he cried. 
“ We must get down before we are seen.” 

When they reached the edge of the lead again, 
and looked down, Jimmy turned a bit pale. It didn’t 
look so easy to get down as it had to climb up. 

“ Golly, I dunno whether I can make it,” he said. 

“ You gotter make it, unless you want to starve,” 
Peanut answered. “ You go first, and I’ll keep hold 
of the rope. Then it doesn’t matter if you do fall. 
Take it easy now, and keep cool.” 

Jimmy crept gingerly out over the edge, and Pea- 
nut played out the rope, which was just long enough 
to reach the bottom. Then he untied it from his 
own waist, threw it over, and started down the gully 
himself. 

Once on the ground the boys walked away from 
the cliff a bit, where they could see around the corner 
to the spot where they knew the cave mouth to be. 
The mouth was quite invisible from below, but not 
far above it they saw that the face of the cliff was not 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF 99 

smooth. The rock went up from the ledge twenty 
feet or so, and then stopped. There didn’t seem to 
be a second ledge, but the main cliff rose up from 
behind and below the outer wall. 

“ There’s a kind of a pocket in there, I bet,” cried 
Peanut. “ That tunnel we were in is really a big 
crack in the rock, and if we follow it up we’ll come 
into a cave or even into an open place, in behind the 
big rock above the ledge. Gee, how can we get up 
that slippery place ? ” 

“ We could bring a ladder,” Jimmy suggested. 

“ We couldn’t get a ladder round the bend in the 
tunnel,” said Peanut. “ I got it 1 We can take in 
boards, nail cleats on ’em, and then nail the boards 
together till they make a ladder I ” 

“ Hooray, when’ll we do it ? ” 

“ Day after to-morrow — at the same time.” 

“ You’re on I ” 

The boys reached their bicycles, and were riding 
home, when they met Eddie Reynolds and Pete Per- 
kins, also on wheels, with the handles of hatchets 
sticking down under their coats, riding in the op- 
posite direction. 

“Hi, fellers, where you going?” said Jimmy. 

“ About where you’ve been, I guess,” said Eddie. 
“ What time did you get up ? ” 

“ In time to beat you,” Jimmy replied. 

“ Rats I ” said Peanut, when the others had passed. 


lOO 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


** They’re onto us now ! We ought to have started 
home sooner.” 

Two mornings later, however, when Peanut and 
Jimmy again set out, they met nobody on the road, 
and reached the spot where they had hidden their 
first boards undiscovered. With these boards, and 
two more they had brought, they hurried at once to 
the lead up to the ledge. Peanut climbed first, with 
the rope, and Jimmy tied on the boards, which Pea- 
nut hauled up, hauling Jimmy up after them. They 
took the boards to the mouth of the cave, and nailed 
cleats on them. Then Peanut took his collapsible 
camp lantern from his pocket, put it together, stuck 
in the candle, lighted it, and they crawled into the 
tunnel, pulling the boards in after them. Standing 
one board up in the tunnel where it turned and 
began to rise like the flue of a chimney. Peanut 
nailed the next board to the end of it, and the two 
thus made a ladder about ten feet long. Up this 
Peanut went, carrying the lantern. 

As he reached the top, he gave a cry. “ Hooray, 
come on up, Jimmy, and bring one of those other 
boards I ” 

When Jimmy was close behind him. Peanut moved 
forward. The board ladder had reached the top of 
the flue. The tunnel now went on nearly level, for 
four or five feet. Then Peanut suddenly stopped. 
In front of him was a yawning hole I He held out 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF loi 

the lantern. The gap was only four feet wide. The 
tunnel continued on the farther side. 

“ Give me that board, and go down and bring up 
the other one,” he commanded. 

The two boards were put across for a bridge, one 
on top of the other to give greater strength. 

** Now, be awful careful here ! ” Peanut cautioned. 
“ This is a bad place.” He tested the bridge, and 
crept cautiously across it, holding the lantern for 
Jimmy to follow. 

“We’ve got to bring up a strong plank for this 
place,” said he. “ Can’t take any chances.” 

They went on in the tunnel, which almost im- 
mediately gave a sharp twist — and emerged in full 
daylight I 

Both boys sprang out of the hole with a cry of sur- 
prise. They were in a pocket in the cliff. Above 
them the wall went up nearly a hundred feet, as 
smooth and unclimbable as the side of a house. At 
the top it hung out, like the eaves of a house, so 
nobody could see this pocket from the summit of the 
mountain. On the other side, the cliff also went up 
six or eight feet, shutting out their view of the land 
below them. The floor of the pocket was filled with 
loose boulders and rock fragments which had fallen 
down from above. Altogether, the pocket was about 
eight feet wide and ran for twenty or thirty feet along 
the cliff side. 


102 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Well, ril be jiggered I ” Peanut exclaimed. “ If 
ever a place was hidden from everything but the 
birds, this is I ” 

“ Are we going to build a hut here ? ” asked 
Jimmy. 

“Are we? Is the sun going to set to-night? 
Nobody can find this place in ten thousand years, 
if we don’t get caught going up the lead. Let’s see 
what we’ll want.” 

“Why not make a stone hut?” Jimmy suggested. 

“ Say, you’ve got almost human intelligence,” 
cried the leader. “ That’ll save a heap of hauling. 
We can bring just enough boards for the roof.” 

“ I got a big piece of tin from the old hen-house,” 
said Jimmy. “That would be easier ’n boards.” 

“ Say, Jimmy, I’m glad you’re my partner,” Pea- 
nut laughed. “ Let’s see where we can build her.” 

“ Let’s begin now.” 

Peanut looked at his watch. “ Five o’clock. We 
can stay half an hour in safety, maybe. Wish we 
had a spy-glass. Shin up the side, and see if any- 
body’s on the road.” 

Jimmy climbed up the other side of the pocket 
and peeped over. 

“ Golly, I can see down on the ledge, and out over 
the woods, and the road clear back most to South- 
mead,” he cried. “ Nothing doing.” 

The two Scouts found a big, flat rock, six feet 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF 103 

square, lodged in the pocket, and on this they 
started to build their hut. The wall of the cliff was 
the back wall of the hut. The front would be open, 
like a lean-to, with the fire built against the outer 
wall of the pocket, throwing all the heat back into 
the shelter. Thus they had only to build the two 
side walls, and there were enough broken fragments 
of stone in the pocket to build a dozen such walls. 
In half an hour they had made a good beginning. 

Now, for home and breakfast,” said Peanut. 
“The next thing is to get that tin out here. I guess 
maybe we’d better use boards, though ; they’d be 
easier to carry. We could bring a few at a time, 
and hide ’em somewhere down below.” 

This morning they struck off on the crossroad 
and made a long detour returning to town. They 
met nobody. 

In the next week, by three trips before sunrise, 
they managed to get a piece of plank for the bridge 
and five boards hidden in the rocks at the base of 
the cliff. They didn’t risk another climb up the 
lead, for Peanut felt sure that Art was on the job 
building a hut somewhere, and like as not he might 
have come out the day before with his new sleeping 
bag and spent the night on the mountain. It was 
never safe to count on being up before Art ! 

“ Now we’ve got to get hemlock boughs up there to 
sleep on — that rock’s a pretty hard floor,” said Pea- 


104 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


nut. ‘‘And we’ve got to get up fire-wood. We 
can haul that up in a basket.” 

“ If we knew just the line, we could cut a whole 
dead tree down on top of the cliff, and let it fall over 
into the pocket,” Jimmy suggested. 

• “ Say, that’s an idea, too 1 ” cried Peanut. ‘‘ It 
would be kind of con — conspicuous, though.” 

“ We could cut it near the edge and if anybody, 
saw we could say it fell the wrong way.” 

The two boys walked away from the cliff and 
looked up. It was just sunrise, and the cliff was 
pink. They could follow a seam in the rock up 
from the pocket to a point almost at the top, but 
they couldn’t see any dead, or even live tree, over 
the cliff cornice, to fix a bearing by up there. 

“ One of us’ll have to go up on top, and the other 
stay down here and signal when he’s directly over 
that rock seam, I guess,” said Peanut. 

“ I’ll go,” Jimmy replied. 

“ All right, here’s the hatchet. When I move my 
handkerchief to the left, you go left, when I move 
it to the right, you go right When I wave it up 
and down, you stop, and heave some dead wood 
over at that point Be careful, now, you don’t get 
too near the edge yourself I Gee, I guess I’d better 
go.” 

“ No, let me go ! ” 

Peanut shook his head, “ No. I’m Scout Master. 


PEANUT AND JIMMY CLIMB A CLIFF 105 

If anything happened to you, I’d be to blame. I’m 
going. You signal with your handkerchief. Better 
get under cover till you see me on top, in case Art 
is prowling around, and stand in bushes to signal, so 
I can see you, but folks lower down can’t.” 

Peanut started off for the trail to the summit, and 
Jimmy waited in some bushes two hundred yards 
out from the face of the cliff. He waited half an 
hour, then an hour, till his neck was sore and stiff 
from watching the summit so far above him. He 
wondered what had happened to Peanut. It oughtn’t 
to have taken him more than half an hour to reach 
the summit, and five or ten minutes more to climb 
down the southern ridge to the point over the cave. 
Jimmy was getting ready to go after him, when he 
saw a flutter of white on the top of the cliff, and the 
head and shoulders of Peanut peering over. Peanut 
was a long way short of the top of the seam which 
led up from the pocket, so Jimmy signaled to the 
left. When Peanut had gone far enough, he made 
the sign to stop. Then the figure above the ledge 
disappeared, and a few minutes later a big dead 
limb seemed mysteriously to slide off the cornice 
and come tumbling down through the air. It dove 
directly into the pocket where their hut was — and 
vanished. Peanut’s head appeared over the ledge, 
and once more Jimmy signaled O. K. There fol- 
lowed two more big dead branches, a small stump. 


io6 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


and finally the whole trunk of a small tree. Then no 
more came. 

Fifteen minutes later Peanut, breathless, rejoined 
his team mate. 

“ Did they go in ? ” he asked. 

“ You bet, every one.” 

“ Hooray, we’ve got fire- wood for a week — a lead 
pipe I ” 

“ Why were you so long getting up ? ” called 
Jimmy. ‘‘ Gee, I began to get scared.” 

“ Come on and I’ll show you,” Peanut answered. 
“No, first we’ll have some breakfast.” 


CHAPTER VIII 

Peanut and Jimmy Build Their Hut 

E ach boy had brought some bacon and bread in 
his pocket, and they now made a small fire 
near the brook, toasted the bacon on sticks, and 
washed it down with cold mountain water. That 
hasty meal over. Peanut led the way up the logging 
road. At the point where the path to the summit 
branched off, he paused. 

“ See anything ? ” he asked. 

Jimmy looked all around carefully, and shook his 
head. “ Nothing but the places where we built our 
first fires,” he answered. 

“You’re no Indian yet,” said Peanut. “Look 
across the brook and up that steep bank on the 
farther side.” 

Jimmy looked as directed. “ A tree cut down I” 
he exclaimed. 

Peanut nodded. “ Somebody got careless and cut 
too near the path,” said he. “ I followed the trail. 
That’s why it took me so long.” 

“ What did you find, a hut ? ” 

For answer, Peanut led the way across the brook. 
107 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


io8 

The tree, a small evergreen, had not been trimmed 
on the spot. Whoever had cut it down had dragged 
it off, and the two Scouts could follow the trail by 
the broken underbrush and the scratched moss and 
leaves. 

“ Art never did a thing like that,” said Peanut. 
“ He’s too foxy. Bet he’ll have a hut ^most as hard 
to find as ours.” 

“Bet it won’t be quite so hard,” cried Jimmy. 
“ Bet nobody finds ours.” 

“ I dunno,” said Peanut. “ If we could climb that 
lead, Art could.” 

The trail they were following led over the steep 
bank beyond the brook, and into a tangle of big, 
mossy, fern-covered boulders, which were piled up 
in confusion and almost hidden in places by a thick 
growth of hemlock and spruce. Peanut put his 
finger on his lips now, and they stole forward on tip- 
toe, passing around two or three boulders till they 
saw ahead a stand of young spruce, twenty feet tall, 
so thick together that they made a solid^ wall. Both 
boys stopped and listened intently. “ It’s in there 
— in the spruces,” Peanut whispered. “ Don’t be- 
lieve they are there, but they might be. We don’t 
want to be caught ’round here, or they’ll move it.” 

“ Lemme have one look I ” pleaded Jimmy. 

“ Hurry, then I ” 

Jimmy stole forward, and crept under the low 


PEANUT AND JIMMY BUILD A HUT 109 

branches of the evergreens. He came back a min- 
ute later. 

“ Pretty soft,” he said. “ They got an oil stove 
in there, so’s not to make any smoke, I guess 1 And 
blankets all rolled up, and boughs for beds, and just 
a roof on four poles. Gee, they don’t need any side 
walls with those trees. Whose is it, do you guess ? ” 

“ Dunno. Might be Eddie and Pete. Let’s get 
away quick.” 

The two Scouts sneaked off the way they had 
come. “ There’s one we’ve found,” said they. 

“ When are we goin’ to build ours?” said Jimmy. 
** We ain’t got much more’n a week now.” 

“We’ve got time enough to build it,” Peanut an- 
swered. “ What’s worrying me is, how are we going 
to get up enough boughs to make bunks on that 
hard rock ? ” 

“Why don’t we bring an old mattress?” Jimmy 
suggested. 

“ Some haul to get it up there 1 ” 

“ We might throw that over the cliff, too.” 

“ You want to lug it to the top of the mountain ? ” 
Peanut laughed. “ Excuse me I ” 

“We might chuck boughs over the top.” 

“ Would take all day, ’most, to cut enough up 
there, and we'd be caught at it. Say, I know I 
What’s the matter with me I I’m a punk Scout, I 


no 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ What is it ? ” asked Jimmy. 

“ We’ll make a double camp cot, out of heavy 
twine and a couple of pieces of joist ! We can haul 
up enough boughs for that in no time. Come on, 
we’ll get a supply of boughs cut now, and then go 
home for the day. I got my work for the Herald 
to do. Then you meet me to-night at nine o’clock, 
at my house. Have a blanket roll, and your sweater, 
and grub for three meals, and a piece of joist at least 
six feet long. We’ll make a night of it in the woods, 
and get an early start to-morrow.” 

Hooray I ” cried Jimmy. “ A night in the 
woods ! I never slept out in my life ! ” 

They cut two great armfuls of hemlock boughs 
and hid them under some bushes close to the foot 
of their lead, and then hurried toward their bicycles. 
As they crossed the pasture, they heard the sound 
of an ax somewhere on the mountainside behind 
them. 

“ Gee,” said Peanut, “ somebody else is on the job. 
We got to go easy to-night. I’ve been trying to 
find out what Art’s up to, but he’s mum as a clam.” 

That night, when Jimmy arrived at Peanut’s 
house, with his beam, his blanket, and his pack, he 
found Peanut’s father hitching up a team. 

“ Dad’s going to drive us down, by the back road, 
and come into the mountain road below our hut,” 
said Peanut. “ There’ll be less chance of getting 


PEANUT AND JIMMY BUILD A HUT iii 

spotted. We can carry everything we need for the 
hut this trip.” 

Peanut’s father surveyed the beams and blankets 
and balls of heavy twine and camp kettles, water pail, 
nails and hatchets and the long piece of rope the boys 
dumped into the cart by lantern light. “ Were you 
boys goin’ to lug all that on your backs, eh ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Sure,” said Jimmy, who was about half the length 
of the joist he had brought. 

“ Say, if you had to work as hard as that, you’d 
think you were dead,” said Mr. Morrison. 

It took them some time to make the back road de- 
tour, and it was nearly ten o’clock when the team 
stopped at a point half a mile south of the pasture 
where the boys usually cut across to the cliffs. The 
road here was close to the south end of the mountain, 
where the rocks were only about fifty feet high. The 
boys got out and removed all their stuff from the 
wagon, carrying it by lantern light into the woods 
till they found a sheltered spot under some small 
hemlocks, where the ground was soft with dry 
needles and the wind didn’t penetrate. Peanut’s 
father bade them good-night, and drove off. They 
didn’t attempt to make a fire in this spot — there was 
too much danger of igniting the trees. They simply 
rolled up in their blankets, right on the ground, and 
went to sleep. 


II2 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Jimmy was awake before daylight. Not being 
used to sleeping out, he was stiff and cold. He 
huddled closer in his blanket, and tried to get into 
an easy position, and waited as patiently as he could 
till it was light. Then he woke Peanut. 

The two Scouts crept out of their cover, and Pea- 
nut made a fire while Jimmy went with the pail for 
water. There was a well-known spring close to the 
main road not far away. When he came back Pea- 
nut already had bacon cooking, and was scrambling 
two eggs in Jimmy’s fry pan. They made tea, and 
enjoyed a fragrant and hearty breakfast. Then they 
began hauling their stuff a quarter of a mile to the 
foot of the lead, no easy job through the dew-soaked 
and pathless bushes. 

It was considerably past sun-up when they got 
everything to the spot, including the boards previ- 
ously hidden in the bushes, and the bundles of hem- 
lock boughs. Peanut went up the lead, hauling the 
rope, and Jimmy stayed below to tie on the stuff. 
Boards, pail, joists, boughs, were all finally hauled 
to the ledge, Jimmy admitting that the timber hitch 
knot he had learned to tie was a vast aid in the 
process. Then he fastened the rope under his own 
arms, and with Peanut taking up the slack as he 
mounted, Jimmy climbed the lead. 

All the equipment was now taken along the ledge 
to the mouth of the tunnel, and Peanut lit his camp 


PEANUT AND JIMMY BUILD A HUT 113 

lantern and two other candles beside, placing the 
lantern up where the bridge crossed the crevasse, and 
the candles at the bend below, so they could see to 
work. Then he climbed the ladder with the rope 
and once more the stuff was hauled up the tunnel to 
the bridge, passed across that, and finally brought 
into the pocket. 

By the time it was all there, the sun was so high 
that the low east wall of the pocket was no protec- 
tion. The rays beat down upon the two boys, and 
worse than that, they hit the great wall of the cliff, 
and seemed to bounce back. 

“ Say, this place is going to be hot all right I 
Peanut sighed. “ Gee, Pm sweating now.” 

“ Me, too,” said Jimmy. “ But we can always 
crawl into the tunnel.” 

“ We’ll get the roof on the hut, for shade, the first 
thing we do.” 

The side walls had already been built up about 
two feet, with large blocks of stone. They now 
tugged and pulled at other blocks, and made the 
walls about five feet high. 

“ That’s enough,” said Peanut. ‘‘ Now we’ll lay 
the boards across the top.” 

That was a simple matter. As the wall sloped back 
a little like a lean-to, all they had to do was to over- 
lap the boards an inch, to shed the rain, and weight 
them down with a few stones. The hut was built I 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


114 

Both boys dove in under the refreshing shade, and 
wiped their faces. 

“ Whew I Guess you could cook eggs on these 
rocks without a fire,” said Jimmy. 

“ It’s the fire that’s worrying me,” said Peanut. 

“ The smoke’s going to show by day, and the light 
by night, plain’s your hat.” 

“ We’ll have to get an oil stove, like that other 
hut,” Jimmy suggested. 

“ I’ll get some solid alcohol,” Peanut replied. 

“ We can use that till after the hunting is over. 
Then we can use this wood we threw over from the 
top. Gosh I It don’t — doesn’t — need much cutting 
up, after that fall 1 ” 

He and Jimmy surveyed anew the big dead 
branches Peanut had hove over the top of the 
precipice. They lay at the bottom of the pocket, . 
smashed into a thousand pieces. 

“ Now, for our bunk I ” said the leader. 

They took the two pieces of joist, drove nails on the 
back side of the rear one, every two inches, propped 
them up on stones eight inches from the floor, and 
fastened the ends with heavy stones in the walls of 
the hut, one at the back, the other at the front. 

“ Hold on I ” Peanut suddenly exclaimed, as he 
was hammering in a nail to the front joist, that 
makes a lot of noise. S’pose you shin up and take 
a squint at the landscape, Jimmy.” 


PEANUT AND JIMMY BUILD A HUT 115 

Jimmy scrambled up the outer wall of the pocket, 
and immediately came tumbling down again. 

“ Sh I ” he cautioned, in an excited whisper. “ Art 
and Skinny are coming I In a minute they’ll be 
right down below there. Gee, they almost saw 
me!” 

“What were they doing?” Peanut asked. 

“ I couldn’t tell — didn’t stay long enough. Think 
they were looking at the cliff, though.” 

“ Quick, let’s get down to the mouth of the tunnel. 
We can stay in the dark there and listen. Can’t 
hear anything up here. Go softly, now, down the 
ladder 1 ” 

The two boys crawled into the tunnel, crossed the 
plank bridge by the light of the lantern, and de- 
scended the ladder in the dark. Crawling to the 
mouth of the tunnel, where they were screened 
from view by the little fir trees on the ledge, so 
long as they didn’t stand upright, they listened 
intently. 

Sure enough, they could hear Art and Skinny 
talking, somewhere below. Peanut wriggled for- 
ward on his stomach till he could peep over. He 
saw Art and his companion standing thirty or 
forty feet away from the base of the cliff, at the 
outer edge of the rock pile, looking up apparently 
right into Peanut’s face. But he knew they didn’t 
see him. 


ii6 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Art had evidently been examining the grounds 
“ Somebody has been along here this morning, 
that’s sure,” he was saying to Skinny. 

“ Maybe they’re up on that ledge,” Skinny re- 
plied. 

Peanut saw Art shake his head. “No,” said the 
foxy Art, “ you can see from here that there’s no 
chance to hide a hut there. Those little fir trees 
aren’t more’n four feet high. The ledge is bare as 
a bone.” 

“ Might be a cave,” Skinny suggested. 

Both Peanut and Jimmy held their breath waiting 
for Art’s reply. 

“ Well, if there was a cave big enough to put a 
hut in, we could see it from here,” said he. 

Jimmy punched Peanut’s leg in joy. 

“ We might climb up and have a look,” Skinny 
again suggested, and again Peanut and Jimmy held 
their breaths. 

“ What’s the use ? ” said Art. “ It’s thirty feet up 
that lead, and we haven’t got any rope with us. It’s 
back in our hut. What’s the use risking our necks 
when we can see from here ? ” 

The two boys on the ground moved on along the 
base of the cliff, and Peanut wriggled backward into 
the dark mouth of the tunnel. 

“ Gee, that was a close squeak 1 ” said he. “ What 
if they’d started up ? ” 


PEANUT AND JIMMY BUILD A HUT 117 

“We could pull up the ladder, so they couldn’t 
climb the tunnel,” Jimmy suggested. 

“ They’d see our tracks on the ledge, though. 
One thing we’ve learned, anyhow. They’ve got a 
rope in their hut. They must be on the cliff some- 
where, too. What surprises me is that Art didn’t 
follow our tracks to the base of the lead. Lucky for 
us it’s all stone down at the foot, and we haven’t 
made a path. And old Art thinks he’s so foxy, 
too r ” 

The boys climbed back to the pocket, and Peanut 
sent Jimmy up on the outer wall as a lookout, hand- 
ing him up two stones, which Jimmy placed on top 
of the wall so he could peep between them without 
showing his head. Then, when he gave word that 
the coast was clear below. Peanut quickly drove 
nails into the front joist, two inches apart, nearly 
up to the heads, not on the top of the joist, but the 
front face. 

Then Jimmy climbed down, and they strung their 
heavy cord from these nails and over the top of the 
rear joist to the nails on the back of that, like the 
strings one way in a tennis racket, laid their hem- 
lock boughs across, and then wove the cord in and 
out the other way, so that finally, when the ball of 
twine was all used up, they had a regular bedspring 
of cord and hemlock. 

When the bunk was completed, they drove the 


Ii8 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


nails still farther in, to be out of the way, and folded 
up their blankets neatly, stowing them at the rear. 
Then they built a good, big fireplace against the outer 
wall of the pocket, facing the front of the lean-to, 
stacked up the fire-wood in a neat pile, and finally 
made themselves a table out of a flat rock placed on 
two other stones. Finally, after taking out enough 
food for a hasty lunch and putting it in their pockets, 
they stowed all extra grub in the kettles and put the 
kettles and other camp equipment in the mouth of 
the tunnel, where it would be out of the sun and 
rain alike. 

“There, she’s done!” cried Peanut. “ Now, we 
want to get out of here, and not come back till the 
last night. We don’t want to leave any tracks. 
If anybody finds this hut, I’ll — I’ll eat my shirt I ” 

“ Me, too,” said Jimmy. 

The partners took a final look around their hut, 
slipped down the tunnel, peered cautiously out from 
under the screen of the evergreens, and seeing that 
the coast was clear, went to the edge of the lead. 
Peanut fastened the rope under Jimmy’s arms, low- 
ered him down, and followed himself. Then he 
coiled the rope up, and fastened the coil to his belt, 
like a cowboy’s lasso. 

“ Now, what are we going to do ?” asked Jimmy. 

“ Get a drink 1 ” said Peanut. 


CHAPTER IX 


Peanut and Jimmy Find Another Hut 
HERE were only four days left before the day 



X for completing the huts, when the hunt offi- 
cially began, and Peanut and Jimmy resolved that 
they’d find Art’s hut, if they didn’t discover another 


“ It can’t be the hut we’ve found already,” said 
Peanut, “ ’cause Art wouldn’t cut down a tree where 
it showed that way. Besides, he and Skinny 
wouldn’t need a rope in that shack. No, they must 
be up on the cliffs some place.” 

** Let’s eat lunch, and go hunt,” said Jimmy. 

They were sitting by the brook as they talked, 
having drunk a quart of water apiece, after their 
morning in the dry, sun-baked pocket. They made 
a small fire and fried some bacon on sticks, and also 
cooked a lamb chop apiece. Then they douched 
the fire and set off again toward the sharp wall of 
the mountain, leaving the path and pushing their 
way through the thick woods. 

“ Keep your eye peeled for signs of cutting,” cau- 
tioned Peanut, or for any other tracks.” 

“ Gee, this is fun I ” said Jimmy. 


120 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


They hadn’t gone far before they suddenly heard 
the blows of an axe, not very far off, to the right, close 
to the mountain wall, but at a point at least a quarter 
of a mile nearer Southmead than their own hut. In 
fact, it was not far beyond the regular foot-path up 
the saddle. Going as softly as they possibly could 
through the undergrowth the pair soon stalked up 
on the sound. 

“ They’re making so much noise themselves that 
they won’t hear us,” Peanut whispered. 

The two boys crossed the path, and plunged into 
a tough stand of mountain laurel beyond. The 
chopping was evidently not far on the other side of 
this laurel brake. It was hard work getting through, 
but they contrived to do it, thanks to their leather 
puttees, and on the other side began almost to creep 
through some thick, low hemlocks. Peering cau- 
tiously between the last branches. Peanut and Jimmy 
saw Old Hundred and Cop, with hatchets, taking 
down and trimming some small hard woods, which 
grew in a thick stand at this point. They already 
had a half dozen poles on the ground, and were 
busily working at two more. 

“ Let’s lie low here and see what they do,” whis- 
pered Peanut. 

“ Sure,” Jimmy replied. 

Cop and his partner were talking. The boys in 
the cover could hear all they said. 


FINDING ANOTHER HUT 


I2I 


“Gee,” Cop was remarking, “bet nobody finds 
our hut I ” 

“ Have to go some,” Old Hundred agreed. “ No- 
body’s seen us come into the woods, either. I don’t 
believe Peanut and Jimmy have begun to build yet. 
I haven’t seen a sign of ’em. Art has, though. He 
and Skinny were out all last night. Skinny’s brother 
told me so.” 

“You got to watch Art, he’s a good one,” said 
Old Hundred. “ Gee, he knows the woods ! Come 
on, we got enough poles now. Let’s cut some 
boughs for a bunk.” 

Suddenly the two boys turned directly toward the 
spot where Peanut and Jimmy were crouched hid- 
ing, and before the watchers could wiggle out of 
sight, they were upon them. Peanut dropped on 
his stomach, and could probably have squirmed out 
of sight into the thickest part of the trees, but before 
he could lay a hand on Jimmy the little fellow had 
started to run. Of course, he made a great noise, 
and Cop and Old Hundred sprang after him. 

Peanut got up and called Jimmy back. 

“So nobody has seen you, eh?” he laughed at 
the astonished Cop and Old Hundred. 

“ How long you been there ? ” they demanded. 

“ Oh, about an hour, maybe,” said Peanut 

“ Well, you dunno where our hut is, anyhow,” 
said Cop. 


122 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ We might stick around and follow you/’ Peanut 
suggested. 

** Two can stick around as well as one,” retorted 
Old Hundred, sitting down. “We don’t have to go 
till you go.” 

Peanut laughed. “Come on, Jimmy,” he said, 
“ they got us there. Besides, it ain’t — isn’t — fair to 
hold anybody up.” 

“ Aw, they’ll just go off a ways, and hide again,” 
said Cop. 

“ Don’t judge everybody by yourself, Cop,” Pea- 
nut replied. “ We’ll really go away — honor bright. 
But we give you fair warning that we’ll come back 
and follow your trail if we can. That’s according 
to rules, all right. It’s up to you to hide your trail.” 

“ Guess you can’t follow a trail much in these 
woods,” said Cop, scornfully. 

“That’s up to you,” said Peanut, moving on. 

He and Jimmy crossed the area of hard woods, 
where Cop and Old Hundred had been chopping, 
and entered evergreen again. 

“ We’ll give ’em a couple of hours to get their 
poles moved,” Peanut said, “ and then we’ll follow 
’em. Don’t forget where the place was. We’ve got 
one hut located, and another half spotted now. That 
leaves only two to find, one of ’em Art’s. Gee 1 I’d 
give a million dollars to find where Art’s is ! ” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when 


FINDING ANOTHER HUT 


123 


they heard a distant crashing in the undergrowth. 
Peanut put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, and 
shoved him to the ground, dropping at the same 
time himself. They waited, watching the woods in- 
tently, and a second later they heard the distant 
murmur of voices. Another second, and a little 
farther down the mountain they saw Art and 
Skinny, descending evidently from the steep moun- 
tainside to the north, back toward the main path. 

“ They’ve come down from the general region of 
the big cave,” Peanut whispered. “ S’pose they’ve 
built up there ? Wouldn’t be in the cave, of course, 
because everybody knows that place. But there may 
be another cave up there some place.” 

** Let’s go see,” said Jimmy. 

When the others were safely out of ear-shot they 
got up and headed for the big cave, skirting the 
base of the steep ascent which on this side of the 
summit path was not a precipice, as on the other 
side, but merely great steps of stone ledges, covered 
with trees, ferns and moss. They came presently 
on the line of blazes marking the northern boundary 
of the hut area, and knew that the big cave was 
above them. They climbed to the tree ladder at the 
base of the cave ledge, shinned it, took one cursory 
glance into the empty cave, and began to search 
south along the steep mountain ledges for other 
caves, or any sign of a hut. 


124 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ We’ve got to travel back along the cliffs,” said 
Peanut. “ Must be somewhere here. Keep your 
eye peeled for tracks.” 

It was hard work traveling over the mossy 
ledges, with fallen trees obstructing the way, and 
they found no sign of a hut, or any other cave where 
it could be hidden, either, or even any tracks. 

“ Well, let’s go back and track Cop and Old Hun- 
dred,” Peanut finally said, giving it up. 

They descended from the ledges, and were soon 
down in the stand of hard wood, where Cop and 
Old Hundred had been cutting. 

“ It’s a pipe that they went out of this clearing on 
the opposite side from where their hut is, to throw 
us off the scent,” Peanut remarked. “ Now, let’s go 
right around the circle, and see if we can pick up 
their tracks. They must have carried the poles on 
their shoulders, so look out for broken branches, or 
bruised twigs about the height of your chin.” 

The two boys circled the stand once without any 
success. Old Hundred and Cop had gone out with 
great care, evidently. But the second time around, 
working a little farther away from the center into 
the heavy woods, Jimmy gave a cry, and pointed to 
a dead pine tree twig broken off, where somebody 
had evidently squeezed through. Just beyond two 
dead twigs on the ground were freshly broken where 
somebody had stepped. 


FINDING ANOTHER HUT 


125 


The track was pointing directly toward the regular 
path up the mountain. 

“ Foxy Scouts,” said Peanut. “ I bet they used 
the path I ” 

Two or three other signs did, in fact, take the trail 
to the path. 

“ Now, did they go up or down ?” said Jimmy. 

“You go down, and Til go up,” Peanut answered, 
reassuring himself that they hadn’t crossed the path. 
“ No, we’ll both go up, first. It ain’t — isn’t — likely 
they’d go down to build a hut — too much danger 
of meeting somebody. Come on — keep your eye 
peeled I ” 

Not far up the path they came upon a bit of 
hemlock branch. “ Hello ! ” the leader exclaimed, 
“ they’re dropping some of their bedding 1 We’re 
on the trail I ” 

A little farther up they found another bit of hem- 
lock, and not far beyond that Jimmy, whose eyes 
were becoming accustomed to the signs of a trail, 
detected a broken branch beside the path, to the 
right. Both Scouts turned in at this point. Not 
six feet off the path still another bit of hemlock had 
dropped. 

“They turned off here, for sure,” said Peanut. 
“Good work, Jimmy. The hut’s off in this direc- 
tion, and not much farther up the mountain, or 
they wouldn’t have turned off so soon. Go easy 


126 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

now, so they won’t hear us. Better whisper from 
now on.” 

A few steps farther they picked up another sign — 
a bit of underbush broken by a boot, and came to a 
natural ledge, with a drop on one side, and a steep 
lift on the other. 

“ They must have gone along this,” said Peanut, 
softly. “ Anyhow, they couldn’t climb to the next 
ledge without scarring the moss.” 

The two boys walked on for one hundred feet or 
more, and then Jimmy pointed in excited silence to 
the upper side of the ledge. Peanut looked, and 
sure enough there were several marks on the moss, 
where boot heels had scraped it off. Both pursuers 
followed the tracks up the sharp incline of rocks, go- 
ing silently and cautiously. They found themselves 
on a second ledge, a wide one, and in front of them 
was a huge boulder, as large as a small barn, which 
apparently had slid down the mountain this far and 
stopped. 

Creeping around this boulder, they came suddenly 
upon the beginnings of the hut — a pole lean-to, built 
facing the back side of the boulder, with the steep 
mountain wall behind. The spot was hidden from 
above by some overhanging hemlocks, and of course 
hidden from in front by the boulder. Old Hundred 
and Cop had departed, but their hatchets and a box 
of nails were carefully hidden in a crack in the rock. 


FINDING ANOTHER HUT 


127 


“ Pretty neat ! ” said Peanut. “ Say, we’re going 
to have about five good huts on this old mountain, 
all right I Come on away quick now. They might 
be coming back. Not a word about finding this, 
Jimmy, mind that I ” 

“ You bet,” Jimmy replied. “ Say, we’re some 
trackers, though. S’pose I went a mile in twenty- 
five minutes ? ” 

“ Not a mile, but I guess you could. Home for us 
now, though. I’ve got some newspaper items to 
write up.” 

It was getting late in the day, and the two Scouts 
struck back into the path and headed directly down 
the mountain. As they emerged into the pasture at 
the foot, they came suddenly upon Art and Skinny, 
who had evidently been walking more slowly ahead 
of them. 

Each team eyed the other, and then burst out 
laughing. 

“ Well,” said Art, “ got your hut all done ? ” 

“ Sure,” said Peanut. “ Can bunk there any time 
now. Got yours done ? ” 

“ Ho, we slept in ours last night ! ” said Skinny. 
“ Bet you’ll never find it.” 

*‘Bet you’ll never find ours,” Jimmy retorted. 

“ Find any others ? ” Art asked. 

“Gee, we ” Jimmy began, but Peanut cut in 

on him. 


128 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ We’re not telling all we know,” said he. 

“ Well, there’s nothing to prevent our walking 
home together,” Art laughed. “ Having a good 
time, Jimmy ? ” 

“The best I ever had I” Jimmy replied, with 
enthusiasm. 


CHAPTER X 

Jimmy Emulates Sherlock Holmes 


HE following morning Peanut and Jimmy started 



A out once more, but this time they took a differ- 
ent path. 

“ We’ve found two huts already, and we know 
where our own is,” said Peanut. “ So there are 
only two left to find. One’s Art’s, and the other is 
either Eddie and Pete’s, or else Spike and Albert’s. 
Now, Art’s is going to be the hard one to find. You 
remember he said something about having a rope. 
I bet it’s way up on the cliffs some place. Let’s 
start on top of the mountain.” 

“ I bet it is, too,” Jimmy agreed. 

Accordingly they left Southmead by a different 
road, approached the mountain from the north, and 
after a steep walk of three miles up the pastures of 
High Farm, reached the northern end of the summit 
ridge. Here a very dim and much overgrown trail 
led along the spine toward the high southern peak 
over the cliffs. On their left was hut country. On 
their right nobody was allowed to build. They 
kept their eyes to the left, as soon as they had 


130 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


passed the trail down to the big cave, when the hut 
area began. The mountainside grew more and 
more precipitous as they went along, and they kept 
stopping and peering over the edge, but no sign of 
a hut did they see, nor any sign of tracks, either. 
They reached the saddle presently, where the regular 
path came up the mountain, and started up the 
steep, rocky trail to the high south peak, over the 
big cliffs. So many people had been up and down 
this that tracking was impossible, but Peanut sud- 
denly gave a little cry, and stooping down picked up 
a button. 

“ Scout button ! ” said Jimmy. 

“Sure thing. Wouldn’t have come off, either, if 
there hadn’t been a strain on it. Somebody’s been 
lugging stuff up here I ” 

They went on cautiously, keeping their eyes wide 
open, and peering over the face of the cliff at every 
ledge. Still there was no hut visible. They went 
down on the south side of the peak, beyond the top 
of the cliff over their own hut, without finding any- 
thing. 

“ Guess it’s a fake scent,” Peanut confessed. 
“ Somebody has been up here though, that’s sure.” 

“I got an idea,” said Jimmy. “You’ll laugh, 
maybe, but still I’d like to have a look.” 

“ What’s the idea? ” 

“ To look in the big cave again, really carefully ; 


JIMMY EMULATES SHERLOCK HOLMES 131 

we just peeped in before, you know, the first day. 
Art said nobody’d build in there ’cause everybody’d 
look there first thing. Well, that would keep any- 
body from looking, maybe. They’d all think there 
wouldn’t be any hut there.” 

“ Worth trying,” said Peanut. “ Maybe old Foxy 
said that on purpose.” 

The two Scouts hurried back along the summit 
trail till they came to the trail down to the cave. 
Here they descended very cautiously, speaking in 
whispers — and suddenly stopped short in amaze- 
ment. Right under their feet the dead leaves ap- 
peared to be smoking I 

Both boys dropped quickly and silently to the 
ground, and crawled to the smoke. It was coming 
up, a thin stream of it, apparently through the dead 
leaves and mould ; but when they got there they saw 
that it was really coming through a crack in the 
rocks which lay just under the leaf mould, so hidden 
that you didn’t see them. 

“ The cave must run way back in here,” Peanut 
whispered. “ It’s another fifty feet ahead and down 
over the next drop to the entrance. I never knew it 
was so big.” 

‘*Sh!” cautioned Jimmy, who had his ear to the 
crack, and was holding his handkerchief over his 
nose to keep from sneezing. 

** I can hear ’em talking,” he said. “ It’s Spike 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


132 

and Albert — not Art. Spike just said, ‘ Does she 
draw all right ? ^ 

“ What did Albert say ? ” Peanut asked, but before 
Jimmy could reply, they both heard a subdued but 
unmistakable sneeze under the ground. 

“ I guess she don’t draw I ” Peanut whispered. 

Then they heard a rattle right under their faces, 
and the smoke suddenly came up thicker. 

“Hello I” Peanut exclaimed. “They’ve got a 
stovepipe down in there I Tell you what, we might 
hide where we can see the mouth of the cave, and 
watch till they go out. Then we can go in and see 
their shack. We’ve got ’em all spotted now except 
Art and Skinny’s I ” 

The two boys crept as softly as they could forward 
to the top of the ledge over the cave mouth, and then 
crept along some distance away, where they could 
see the mouth, and wiggled in under some laurel 
bushes. Here they lay for more than an hour, wait- 
ing for the occupants to come out. Once or twice 
Spike or Albert came to the mouth of the cave, but 
they didn’t show any signs of departing, and the 
others were too far away to hear what they said. 
Finally, however, just as Peanut and Jimmy were 
deciding that they couldn’t stay still much longer, 
the two boys came out of the cave, each with a 
couple of pails, as if going for water, and slid down 
the tree ladder. 


JIMMY EMULATES SHERLOCK HOLMES 133 

Peanut and Jimmy let them get well out of sight, 
and then they made a dash for the entrance. Inside, 
they could see no signs of a hut. They lit matches, 
and looked all about, but the place was apparently 
empty I 

“ Gee, this is strange ! ” said Jimmy. 

Peanut, however, ran out and got some strips of 
dry bark. Lighting one of these, the Scouts dis- 
covered at the very back of the cave a slab of loose 
stone. Giving this a pull, it fell away, disclosing a 
hole underneath like the passage into their own 
pocket. Jimmy crawled in while Peanut held a 
blazing piece of bark. 

‘‘It’s only four or five feet long,” came back 
Jimmy’s voice. “ Pass me in a piece of bark.” 

“ Gee I ” he exclaimed, “ here’s a second cave in 
here, an’ they’ve got blankets an’ a bunk of hemlock 
boughs, an’ an old iron stove with a stovepipe in it 
to carry off the smoke, an’ a box of candles, an’ a lot 
o’ grub, an’ — my bark’s burned out.” 

Jimmy wiggled back, feet first. 

“ Well, what do you know about that I ” said Pea- 
nut. “ If they hadn’t lighted the fire, we’d never 
have found it.” 

“Wouldn’t have anyhow, if I hadn’t thought 
about looking,” said Jimmy, proudly. 

“ Right, O, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” laughed Pea- 
nut. “ Now, quick, let’s put the stone back, and 


134 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


beat it, before they come back. We gotter find 
Art’s hut now.” 

The Scouts pushed back the stone, slid down the 
tree ladder outside, and started away through the 
woods. ‘‘ If we meet Spike and Albert coming back, 
it’ll worry ’em a bit,” they said, and kept on the 
same track that the others had taken. 

But they didn’t meet them till they reached the 
brook. Here, however, the two were seated, with no 
signs of pails, eating lunch. 

“ Hello, fellers,” said Jimmy. 

“Hello, yourself. Found any huts yet?” said 
Spike. 

“You found any ? ” 

“ Ain’t saying.” 

“ Same here.” 

Peanut and Jimmy sat down with the other two 
and cooked their lunch, also. Before the meal was 
over, both teams had admitted that they hadn’t yet 
found Art’s hut, and there was much speculation as 
to where it was. 

“ We covered all the top of the cliffs this morn- 
ing,” said Peanut. 

“ And we’ve been all through the lower woods for 
two days,” said Spike. 

“Look, there’s Art now!” Jimmy suddenly ex- 
claimed, pointing down the ravine of the brook. 

Sure enough, there he was — calmly fishing up the 


JIMMY EMULATES SHERLOCK HOLMES 135 

stream ! He saw them a moment later, and came 
toward them. He had two nice trout. 

“ For supper,” said he, holding them out. “ Skinny 
and I are living well in our hut. How are you get- 
ting on ? ” 

“ ril find your bloomin^ old hut, or eat my hat 1 ” 
said Peanut. 

” Put on plenty of salt and pepper,” Art laughed, 
going back to the brook again. 

The two parties separated presently, and Jimmy 
and the Scout Master beat the thick woods along the 
lower slopes of the mountain, below the cliffs, all 
that afternoon, but in vain. No sign of Art’s hut 
could they see. 

“ Well, he’s not found ours, either, that’s sure I ” 
said Peanut. 


CHAPTER XI 


Tagging the Huts 


HE next day Peanut called a meeting of the 



X Wildcat Patrol, to draw up final rules for the 
contest, which was to begin at four o’clock the fol- 
lowing afternoon. Each team got four pasteboard 
tags, the kind you tie on express bundles. 

“ You put one of these with your name and the 
hour on every hut you find,” said Peanut. “ But you 
can’t put one on before four o’clock to-morrow after- 
noon. Everybody’s got to cook supper in his own 
hut, between six o’clock and eight, and breakfast the 
next morning between five o’clock and eight. At 
ten o’clock, sharp, we’ll all meet at the place where 
we had our first cooking tests, and Mr. Rogers’ll be 
there to judge.” 

‘‘When can we go out to the woods?” asked 
Spike. 

“ Oh, any old time ” Peanut began. 

But Art interrupted him. “ Wait a minute,” he 
said, “ why not make it harder ? Let’s say every- 
body has got to leave his own house at two o’clock 
to-morrow afternoon, and nobody can go down to 
the mountain between now and then.” 


136 


TAGGING THE HUTS 


137 


** Aw, our hut’s not finished yet I ” said Cop. 

“ Well, then, you can finish it to-morrow morning, 
if you want, but you’ve got to be back in the village 
at noon, and not start out again till two o’clock,” 
Art replied. “ If we all start at two, there’ll be some 
tall scouting to get into our huts without getting 
caught. What do you say. Peanut?” 

“ Right, O I ” the young Scout Master answered. 
“ Good idea. On your honor as Scouts, now, fel- 
lows — everybody’s got to be at home for lunch to- 
morrow, and nobody is to start for the mountain till 
two o’clock sharp — and then you can go by any old 
route you please — take an aeroplane if you want to.” 

The next morning Peanut worked at his newspaper 
items, going around town on his bicycle to various 
places and picking up news. He told Jimmy to 
begin the day like a good Scout, by helping his 
mother beat some rugs. 

“ We should worry,” he laughed. ” We’ve got 
our hut all ready, except carrying in fresh grub.” 

‘‘ But how are we goin’ to get up the lead to cook 
supper without being seen ? ” asked Jimmy. ” That’s 
what’s worrying me. We got to cook supper be- 
tween six and eight, and it don’t get dark before 
’most eight o’clock.” 

‘‘ We’ll just have to take a chance,” said Peanut. 
** We’ll wait till after seven, when everybody’ll be 
trying to get to huts, and make a dash for it.” 


138 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


At two o’clock that afternoon Peanut joined Jimmy 
at the post-office. Each boy was wearing his pack, 
with fresh provisions for three meals, and Peanut 
showed his team mate four cans of solid alcohol 
which he had just bought, to cook with, so no light 
nor smoke would be made. 

‘‘We can set a can between two stones, and put 
the kettle over it,” he said, “ or the frying-pan.” 

As he was stowing them back in his pack, Mr. 
Rogers appeared. 

“ Hello,” said he, “ may I walk down to the Happy 
Hunting Grounds with you ? Think Fll see if I can 
find any of those huts this afternoon.” 

“ If you find Art’s, tell us where it is,” cried Jimmy. 

Mr. Rogers smiled. “ Shall I tell Art where yours 
is ? ” he asked. 

Jimmy grinned in his turn. “ Guess you can’t find 
ours ! ” he said. 

“ How are we going in. Peanut ? ” Mr. Rogers 
asked. 

“Straight down the road,” the boy answered. 
“ Every^)ody else will be sneaking in by back trails. 
We might’s well take it easy. Jimmy and I have 
got ’em all spotted except Art’s.” 

They walked toward the mountain at a comfort- 
able pace, and about three o’clock found themselves 
at the foot of the cliffs, without having seen a sign 
of any of the other Scouts. 


TAGGING THE HUTS 


139 


“ WeVe got an hour before tagging time, to find 
Art’s hut in,” said Peanut to his partner. “ Let’s 
hide our packs under some rocks here, and get 
down to business.” 

“Where’s your hut?” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“ Ha I ” Peanut exclaimed, “ that’s up to you I So 
long. We’re going to leave you now.” 

“ So long,” the Scout Master replied. “ If I find 
your hut, do I get a prize ? ” 

“ A couple of ’em,” Peanut laughed. 

He and Jimmy hid their packs, and started off 
into the woods along the brook. “There’s one 
place we haven’t hunted in yet,” Peanut was saying, 
“ and that’s in the woods over across the brook, close 
to the pasture at the foot of the mountain. You and. 
I, Cop and Old Hundred, and Spike and Albert, 
have all built on the steep part, and Eddie and Pete 
are pretty close to the foot here ; but there’s a big 
section of woods by the pasture which we cross from 
the road, w^here foxy old Art might be.” 

“ Spike and Albert said they’d looked there,” said 
Jimmy, “and why would they need a rope?” 

“ Well, maybe we can see things Spike and Albert 
can’t,” Peanut answered. He was going to add, 
“ Perhaps they were double crossing us, anyhow,” 
but refrained. “ * A Scout’s word is to be trusted,’ ” 
he thought, and bit his lip in anger at himself 
for his momentary suspicion. Instead, he added, 


140 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

Maybe they had the rope to get to the other huts 
with.” 

Crossing the brook rapidly, and keeping as much 
in cover as they could, the two Scouts descended the 
slope back down the mountain, through the heavy 
woods, till they were at the fence by the pasture at 
the foot. Then they walked north as far as the 
boundaries of the hut area, returned by a different 
line, and went south, across the trail, to the end of 
the cliffs. They not only saw no hut and met no 
other Scouts, but they found no tracks, and no place 
where it seemed possible to conceal a hut. The trees 
here were mostly big fellows, and the ground pretty 
open under them. 

Peanut looked at his watch. “ It’s nearly four,” 
he said. “ We’ll have to give it up for now, and 
start tagging. Let’s make for the cave first, and 
tag that at four o’clock sharp, and then hustle down 
to Cop’s, and then to Eddie and Pete’s.” 

They turned back up the trail, scrambled up the 
tree ladder to the cave, which was empty, rolled 
away the stone, and by the light of a match tied a 
tag on the leg of the rusty old stove inside the inner 
cave. Then they slid down the ladder again tri- 
umphantly, and started along the side of the moun- 
tain toward Cop and Old Hundred’s hut. They had 
been to it only once, and then they approached it, 
you will remember, from the other side. Now they 


TAGGING THE HUTS 


141 

walked a long distance, along what they thought 
was the right line, without spotting it. 

“ It was hidden behind a big boulder, don’t you 
remember ? ” said Jimmy. 

“Yes, I remember, all right — but where’s the 
boulder?” Peanut answered. “Gee, they got it 
hidden better’n we thought I ” 

Eventually they had to go on to the path up to 
the summit, and take the direction they had followed 
when they first discovered the hut. They came to 
the ledge and the boulder at last, this way, only to 
sneak ’round the boulder, and fall squarely into the 
arms of Art and Skinny, whose tag was already on 
the hut. 

“ Beat you to it I ” cried Art and his partner. 

“ Well, we beat you to Spike and Albert's, any- 
how,” said Jimmy, hiding his disappointment. 

“ This is a good hut,” Art remarked, pointing to 
the lean-to Cop and Old Hundred had built of poles 
thatched with hemlock boughs, facing the back side 
of the boulder, so that all the heat from the fireplace 
was thrown back into the shelter ; and as the moun- 
tain rose steeply right behind the hut, it was thus 
protected on both sides from the wind. 

“It’s like the Appalachian Club shelters in the 
White Mountains,” said Peanut. “ It’s a dandy, all 
right. Old Hundred’s a great Scout, and Cop must 
have worked, too I ” 


142 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Jimmy now tied their tag on the upright pole of 
the hut, just below Art and Skinny’s tag, and the 
two parties separated. Peanut and Jimmy watched 
Art and his team mate ascend the mountain, and 
then they ran down in the other direction toward 
the brook. 

They crossed the brook, and hurried toward the 
thick stand of hemlock which hid the hut of Eddie 
and Pete. Crawling in under the low boughs, with 
their tag all ready, again they saw that Art and 
Skinny had been ahead of them ! 

“You can’t beat Art,” Peanut exclaimed. 
“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if we found his tag 
on our hut.” 

“ Oh, no I ” wailed Jimmy. “ Let’s find his hut, 
anyhow I ” 

They hunted the mountain and studied the face of 
the cliffs for the next hour and a half, two or three 
times dropping down into hiding behind a rock or 
log when they saw other teams wandering, like them, 
through the woods. But, unfortunately, they didn’t 
see Art and Skinny again. “ If we could only see 
them, and follow ’em I ” Peanut exclaimed. Finally 
it began to grow darker. 

“ We’ve got to beat it up the lead and get supper 
pretty quick,” Peanut said at last. “ Come on. 
We’ll have to fill our pails at the spring, way down 
below.” 


TAGGING THE HUTS 


143 


They got their packs out of hiding, and walking 
south well past their hut, filled their kettles and then 
sneaked carefully back. Peanut went up the lead 
first and lowered the rope to haul up the water. 
Then he hauled up Jimmy, and the two hurried into 
their cave mouth as fast as they could, confident that 
they hadn’t been seen. Once in the cave, they felt 
safe. They lighted the candles, which were still in 
the tunnel, climbed their ladder, carried the two pre- 
cious kettles of water gingerly across the plank, and 
emerged into the pocket, where their hut stood, 
with not a tag on it I 

“ Hurray, I knew they wouldn’t find it 1 ” cried 
Jimmy. 

“ They won’t now, unless somebody saw us come 
up to-night,” said Peanut. “ Go up and take a 
look.” 

Jimmy scrambled up to the top of the outer ledge 
and peeped over. “ Nothing doing, far as I can 
see,” he reported. “ It’s getting dark in the woods.” 

Peanut now put a can of the solid alcohol in the 
fire pit, and laid two stones across in such a way 
that the flame could come up between. Then he 
stood half a kettle of water over it to boil for tea, 
and over another can he proceeded to cook first 
bacon and then a flap-jack for supper. Meanwhile 
Jimmy set dishes on their flat stone “table,” lighted 
the camp lantern inside the shelter, so the light could 


144 the wildcat PATROL 

not reflect up on the cliffs, and spread the blankets 
out to air. 

There was no smoke to rise and betray them from 
the alcohol, nor enough light to be visible from below 
on the face of the cliff. They made a good supper, 
and then cleaned the dishes as best they could with 
some pieces of paper, for they hadn’t been able to 
bring up enough water to wash them in, fixed the 
blankets side by side on their bunk, and began to 
talk of turning in. 

‘‘Let’s climb up and have a peep first,” said 
Peanut. 

“ Couldn’t we go down and hunt a bit for Art’s 
hut?” Jimmy suggested. “Might see a light, or 
something.” 

“ Nix,” the Scout Master replied, “ we’re not tak- 
ing any chances in that lead to-night. You may 
like to fall down thirty feet and land in a rock pile, 
but excuse me 1 ” 

But they climbed up their outer rampart, by the 
light of the camp lantern, and peered over the top 
into the dark, silent forest. Half a mile away they 
could see the head lights of a motor moving along 
the highroad. Very faintly they heard the town 
clock back in the village strike nine. But that was 
all they saw, and all they heard. 

“ One thing’s sure,” said Peanut, as they climbed 
down, “ Art and Skinny have found a cave some- 


TAGGING THE HUTS 


145 


where on this mountain, as well hidden as ours is, 
and we’ve got to find out where it is before ten 
o’clock to-morrow I Let’s get a sleep on it.” 

“ That’s me,” said Jimmy, kicking off his boots, 
and preparing to roll up in his blanket. 

“Jimmy I you’ve forgotten something,” the young 
Scout Master said. 

“ What ? ” asked Jimmy. 

“ Your teeth,” said Peanut. “ A good Scout don’t 
— doesn’t — go to bed without brushing his teeth.” 

Jimmy got up sleepily and brushed his teeth, hav- 
ing to borrow Peanut’s paste, for he had forgotten to 
bring any. Then the two boys lay down side by 
side, and were soon sound asleep. 


CHAPTER XII 


The End of the Hut Hunt 
HEY were awakened about four-thirty by what 



A seemed like a loud drumming close to them, 
and they both sprang up and out of the shelter. A 
huge osprey was sailing away, up the face of the 
cliff. Evidently he had come down into the pocket, 
and been startled by their presence, beating back 
suddenly with his huge wings. 

‘‘ My, what a shot ! ” Peanut exclaimed, pretend- 
ing to take aim. 

“ Looks as big as an eagle,” said Jimmy. ‘‘ Sure 
it ain’t ? ” 

“ No, it’s a big fish-hawk, all right. Bet it lives up 
on this mountain. Well, we might as well stay up 
now, and have breakfast. Can’t cook it till five, 
though.” 

They got everything ready, and at five sharp be- 
gan to boil their eggs and brew their tea. At five- 
thirty they stacked up camp neatly, for Mr. Rogers’ 
inspection, took a peep over the rampart to see if the 
coast was clear, went down the tunnel and crawled 
cautiously out on the ledge, again making sure no- 
body was in sight Then Peanut lowered Jimmy 


146 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 147 

down the lead, and climbed down after him, hiding 
the rope under a stone at the base. 

“ Now for Art’s hut 1 ” he cried. 

“ Gee, it’s harder’n finding a golf ball in the long 
grass I ” said Jimmy, who had been a caddy. 

Through the dew soaked bushes they pushed, up 
and down the mountainside, under the cliffs which 
they scanned till they knew every stone and ledge — in 
vain. They met other parties two or three times ; 
once they met Art and Skinny. 

“ Didn’t see your tag on our hut,” said the latter. 

“ Well, your tag isn’t very prominent on ours,” 
Jimmy retorted. 

Where is your old hut, anyhow ? ” whispered Art 
to Peanut. 

“ I’d tell you if it wasn’t for disappointing 
Jimmy,” Peanut whispered back — ‘‘ over the left.” 

“No use following them,” he said to Jimmy as Art 
and Skinny departed. “ They won’t go back to their 
hut now.” 

“ They might,” said Jimmy. “ Let’s try, anyhow.” 

Art and his partner had gone up the mountain so 
Peanut and Jimmy started after them, and as soon as 
they were in sight began to stalk behind trees, fol- 
lowing as far behind and as quietly as they could. 
But they hadn’t gone far before Art looked back, 
laughed, and shouted, “ No use, our hut isn’t this 
way. Try down by the path.” 


148 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Rats, he’s wise,” said Jimmy. “ Guess we’re 
stumped.” 

“ Looks that way. Well, he’s stumped, too,” Pea- 
nut answered. “It’s nearly ten now. Let’s go 
back and wait for Mr. Rogers.” 

They found Cop and Old Hundred already at the 
rendezvous by the brook. 

“ Gosh, everybody’s found our hut I ” said Cop. 
“ Didn’t think anybody would.” 

“ How many you found ? ” asked Jimmy. 

“ Eddie and Pete’s — that’s all. Found that by 
trailing them yesterday afternoon. We saw ’em 
come down to the brook for water, and sneaked after 
’em. Good hut, too. How many you found ? ” 

“ All except Art’s,” said Jimmy proudly. 

“ You have ! ” cried Cop. “ Gosh, how’d you do 
it?” 

Pete and Eddie now came up. They reported 
finding Cop and Old Hundred’s hut — and that was 
all. Along came Spike and Albert a moment later. 
They had found Cop and Old Hundred’s, and Pete 
and Eddie’s. 

Jimmy danced up and down with joy. “ No- 
body’s found ours I Nobody’s found ours I ” he 
shouted. 

“Not unless Art’s found it since we left,” said 
Peanut. 

Just at that moment Art appeared, with Mr. Rogers 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 149 

and Skinny, down the path from the top of the 
mountain. 

“ Hello, boys, who’s won ? ” said the Scout Master. 
“ I found these two still hunting, up on top, and 
brought ’em along.” 

“ We’ve found four,” said Jimmy. 

” So’ve we,” cried Skinny. 

“ Whose huts aren’t found ? ” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“ Ours 1 ” cried Jimmy. 

” And ours ! ” echoed Skinny. 

** Aw, well, you two had the big fellers to help yer,” 
said Cop. 

” You’re right. Cop,” Mr. Rogers laughed. ** Those 
two teams had the advantage. But let’s make a tour 
to all the huts now. Let’s start with the one with 
the largest number of tags on it.” 

“ That’s ours,” said Cop, disgustedly. “ We didn’t 
think anybody’d find it I ” 

He led the way up the path, turned off to the ledge 
below the boulder, and then over the ledge and 
around the big rock. Mr. Rogers inspected the hut 
and surroundings. 

“ Well,” he said, “ it isn’t so very well hidden. Cop, 
you can see that, because anybody coming around 
the boulder runs smack into it, and the ledge out 
there is mossy and takes boot tracks easily ” 

“ That’s how we found it,” exclaimed Jimmy and 
Skinny both in a breath. 


150 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ but it’s a mighty good, practical hut,” Mr. 

Rogers went on. “ It deserves to stay up for the 
Scouts to use. You get good heat inside the lean-to, 
and perfect protection from wind and cold. Next ? ” 

The next was Eddie and Pete’s, with three tags. 
Mr. Rogers crawled in under the hemlocks and in- 
spected this. *‘Well hidden,” he said, “ but not a 
practical hut, because it would be smoky with a wood- 
fire, and a fire is dangerous, too, in here, so close to 
these dry needles and dead twigs.” 

The next hut was Spike and Albert’s in the cave. 

“ Oh, gee, we never thought to look there^^ said 
Cop, “’cause we thought nobody would build in a 
place everybody knew about.” 

“ That’s why we built there,” laughed Albert. 

“ Yes, an’ we wouldn’t have looked if I hadn’t sug- 
gested it,” piped up Jimmy, proudly. 

“We only looked on a chance,” Art put in. 
“ Then I saw tracks on the floor, and lit a birch bark 
torch, and found the stone.” 

“ It sounds mysterious,” the Scout Master laughed, 
as they climbed the tree ladder to the cave mouth. 

Albert went ahead, rolled back the stone, crawled 
through the tunnel, and lighted up the inner cave. 
Then the rest followed. They could barely all get 
inside, and Mr. Rogers couldn’t stand upright. The 
walls of this inner cave were damp, and so were the 
blankets when the Scout Master felt of them. It 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 151 

smelled smoky still, from the breakfast fire, and very 
earthy. 

“.A wonderful place to hide in, if you have to,” 
said Mr. Rogers, “ but a bad place for a regular 
Scout hut. It’s full of damp and rheumatism, and 
not half full enough of fresh air. Well, whose hut 
is next ?” 

“ Toss a coin,” Art suggested. “ Heads, Jimmy’s 
is next.” 

It fell heads, so the party set off with Jimmy in the 
lead. 

“ I sure will be glad to know where yours is,” said 
Art to Peanut. 

** Ditto,” said Peanut. 

They went down the mountain again, along the 
face of the cliff, and suddenly Jimmy dove to the 
lead, and fished the rope out from under the rock. 

“Here, you let me go first!” Peanut ordered. 
“No risks for you I ” 

“ Aw, I can do it I ” 

“ No — safety first I ” and Peanut went up the lead, 
and threw back the end of the rope to the rest, who 
climbed up one by one. 

“ Golly 1 ” Art cried, “ and to think we stood under 
this ledge and decided there couldn’t be a hut any- 
where up here ! ” 

“ I know you did,” Peanut laughed. “ We heard 
you.” 


152 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Well, / wanted to climb up and see I ” cried 
Skinny. 

“ Yes, that’s a fact,” Art admitted. “ It’s my fault 
we were fooled. But it seemed pretty risky for a 
mighty small chance.” 

“ It is pretty risky,” said Mr. Rogers, who was 
waiting his turn to go up the lead. “ I don’t think 
Peanut did right to build here — and I can’t see yet 
where the hut can be. I don’t see any cave up 
there.” 

“Come on up and you will,” answered Peanut, 
throwing the rope end down. “ It was safe enough, 
honest, Mr. Rogers, ’cause I always pulled Jimmy up 
myself by the rope, and lowered him, too.” 

When all the party was on the ledge, Jimmy led 
the way around to the small cave mouth, hidden by 
the tiny hemlock, crawled in and lit the candles, and 
then the rest followed up the ladder and into the 
pocket of the cliff, where the hut was. It was a 
complete surprise to everybody, for everybody, 
like Art and Skinny, had walked along the base 
and decided there was no possible chance for a 
hut up there. Nobody but Peanut and Jimmy 
had climbed to the ledge, to discover the hidden 
cave mouth. 

“ Well, this is a remarkable place for a hut, all 
right,” said the Scout Master, “ and it’s quite a hut 
— stone walls, and strung mattress, and all the com- 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 153 

forts of home half-way up a precipice ! Still, I bet 
it’s hot in here in the daytime, with the sun beating 
down on the cliff, and it’s a long haul for water, and 
it’s a mighty dangerous climb getting here. It’s not 
much good for a real camping place.” 

Jimmy looked disappointed, but Peanut answered, 
“ You’re right. The game was to hide, though, not 
to make an ideal camp.” 

‘‘ I understand that,” Mr. Rogers said, ** and for 
the purposes of this game, you certainly did well. 
Now for Art and Skinny’s ! ” 

The party descended the tunnel again. Peanut and 
Jimmy bringing their blankets and packs, and Pea- 
nut and Art lowered the rest down the lead before 
descending themselves. Then they all set off, with 
Skinny in the lead, to Art’s hut. 

Skinny made directly for the main path up the 
mountain but turned down as soon as he reached 
it, and walked rapidly toward the open pasture and 
the road. 

“ Here, where you going ? ” Cop said. “ We 
ain’t going home yet I ” 

It began to look as if they were, though, for 
Skinny kept right on till he was within fifty or a 
hundred feet of the pasture, which marked the ex- 
treme boundary of the hut area. Then he stopped 
by the path. 

‘‘ Here’s ours,” he said. 


154 the wildcat PATROL 

“ Where ? ” came a chorus of voices, including Mr. 
Rogers’. 

“ Here ! ” laughed Art. 

“ Aw, quit your kiddin’ I ” 

Say, what do you think we are?” 

“ What yer givin’ us ? ” 

“ Come off, come off I Play the game fair ! ” 

The chorus was more indignant this time. 

“ We’re playing the game fair,” Art laughed. 
“ Aren’t we. Skinny ? ” 

“ Sure’s you’re alive,” said Skinny. “ The hut’s 
here.” 

The boys began to look around. They were 
standing beside a huge old chestnut tree, which 
rose without a branch for twenty feet, and then 
flung great limbs out in all directions, even the 
limbs being as big as an ordinary tree. They all 
looked up in this tree, but saw nothing unusual. 

Peanut, however, stepped away from the path, 
into a stand of hemlocks, the nearest about ten feet 
distant. 

These hemlocks were perhaps thirty feet tall, and 
grew very close together. At the base, however, 
you could see between them, for they were not so 
young as those in which Pete and Eddie had built, 
and the lower branches had died out. There was 
plainly no hut there. But Peanut went in among 
them, and looked sharply around. Suddenly he 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 155 

gave a yell, and began to climb. The rest rushed 
after him, into the little group of evergreens, and 
looked up. There was the hut I 

The hemlocks, thick at the top, had grown up on 
either side of a huge lower limb of the big chestnut, 
and that limb formed a fork, like a letter Y laid flat, 
in the midst of them. Across this fork Art and 
Skinny had laid boards, and on this platform built 
their hut. It was absolutely concealed from all 
points of view except that from directly under- 
neath, by the tops of the hemlocks, which formed a 
hedge all around it, and nobody had thought of 
going among the hemlocks, because you could see 
from outside there was no hut among them on the 
ground — and it had not occurred to anybody to look 
elsewhere than on the ground I 

Peanut by now had climbed a hemlock, an easy 
task, for it had limbs every foot or two, to the plat- 
form, and Jimmy was close behind him. 

“ Two at a time,’^ Art cautioned. “ I don’t know 
if the platform’ll hold more.” 

Each team took its turn examining the hut, and 
Mr. Rogers examined it, too, of course. The plat- 
form had three sides of boards, about three feet 
high, and it was roofed with a piece of waterproof 
canvas, which could be raised in fair weather. The 
hut was really like a big packing box with one end 
knocked out. It was just big enough for the two 


156 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


boys to stretch out and sleep in. Like Peanut and 
Jimmy, Art and Skinny had cooked with solid 
alcohol. Of course, they couldn’t have made a 
wood-fire, anyway. They slept on a rubber camp 
mattress which Art had recently bought. This he 
blew up at night with a bicycle pump, and by day 
deflated and folded up. 

“ Well, that’s some hut I ” Peanut exclaimed, in 
admiration. Foxy old Art ! See, fellers. Art and 
Skinny put their hut not more’n twenty feet off the 
path we all use, and not more’n a hundred feet from 
the very entrance. Guess they reckoned we wouldn’t 
begin hunting quite so soon.” 

“ That’s just what we reckoned,” Art laughed. 

“ But how’d you get the stuff — boards and things 
— in without getting caught ? ” somebody asked. 

Again Art laughed. “ That was the easiest part,” 
he answered. “ We waited till you were all in on 
the mountain, and then, being way down here, there 
was nobody to catch us I We put the hut together 
with screws, so’s to make no noise. We’ve sat up 
there a dozen times and watched you fellows coming 
out, almost right under us. We could push a hem- 
lock branch away and get a peep through.” 

“Well, there’s one other thing I don’t see,” Old 
Hundred said. “ And that’s why you didn’t make 
more marks on these hemlocks, going up and down 
so much.” 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 


157 


Again Art laughed. “ That’s easy,” he answered. 
“ We always took off our boots before we went up, 
and our stocking feet didn’t bruise the bark on the 
limbs.” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Rogers, “in some ways this is 
the cleverest hut of all, because Art and Skinny 
didn’t depend on a secret cave to hide it in, but 
managed to fool all of you by hiding it right over 
your heads at the very entrance of the woods. It’s 
light and airy, too. But you couldn’t stand up in it 
in wet weather. With the canvas roof on, you’d 
have to lie down. And you can’t build a fire in it to 
keep warm, and you have to haul all your water up 
a tree. Do you know, boys, even though Art and 
Skinny, and Peanut and Jimmy Gerson, have tied for 
first place in the game, whose hut I think is the best 
one ? ” 

“Whose?” they all asked. 

“ The hut that everybody found — Cop and Old 
Hundred’s. It was last in this game, but it is first in 
practical usefulness as a woodsman’s shelter. So 
I’m going to suggest that we go back there for din- 
ner.” 

Cop and Old Hundred were almost as much 
pleased at this as though they had won the game. 
The whole patrol adjourned now to their hut, for it 
was nearly one o’clock, and while the two winning 
teams and the Scout Master lolled back on the 


158 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


ground, the three losing teams had to cook dinner 
for everybody. 

“ Pretty soft,” said Art, “ eh. Peanut ? ” 

Yes,” Peanut answered, “ it’s a great nuisance 
having to cook for yourself. I always like to have 
good servants.” 

“ Now, Cop, be sure you get my bacon fried good 
and crisp,” said Jimmy. “ If you don’t. I’ll fire 
you.” 

“ I’ll punch your head,” retorted Cop. 

“ Want some setting up exercises. Cop ? ” Peanut 
cautioned, and Cop, with a grunt, bent hastily over 
the fire again. 

Art didn’t stay long on the ground, however. 
The new patrol were not yet skilful cooks, and he 
couldn’t help taking a hand and showing them how 
to do things. Pete and Eddie had half a dozen 
eggs left (they had brought a dozen the night be- 
fore, in a parcels post egg box), and Art helped 
them make two delicious omelets, in two pans. 
These omelets, with bacon, some chops, fried pota- 
toes, tea and coffee, bread and fruit, composed the 
meal. And it was a good one. There wasn’t much 
left to clear away when the ten hungry boys and one 
hungry man got through. 

“ Well, sir,” cried Peanut, as the dishes were 
washed and the waste burnt up, “ the great hut hunt 
is over I What are we going to do next?” 


THE END OF THE HUT HUNT 159 

“ Gee, Fd like to do this all over again I ” Jimmy 
exclaimed. 

“ Bet nobody would find our hut ;^^;t:/time I ” said 
Cop. 

“Nor ours I ” said Pete. 

“Well, boys, you’ve got the huts now,” said Mr. 
Rogers, “ and pretty good ones they all are, at least 
to hide in. I want you to promise, though, to be 
very careful about fires. It’s part of our job as 
Scouts never to start forest fires. In fact, we ought 
to be on the watch always to prevent forest fires. 
You’ve got places where you can come and camp 
any time you want to. But there are other things 
for Scouts to do beside building huts. I think. Pea- 
nut, every Scout here ought to make a map now of 
this mountainside, showing the paths, contour in- 
tervals, and location of the huts. Suppose you show 
’em a government survey map of this region, and 
explain what a contour interval is, and then next 
week we’ll meet and go over everybody’s map. 
You know, boys, a Scout who couldn’t make a map 
wouldn’t be much use in an army, would he ? 
You’ve had your fun. Now for the work of putting 
it on paper — call it making a map of a good time I ” 

“ That’s a funny idea — making a map of a good 
time,” said Albert. “ It’s sure been a good time, all 
right! ” 

The Scouts now rolled up their blankets, packed 


i6o 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


up their knapsacks, and set out for home, talking 
over the excitements of the game as they went. 

But Mr. Rogers, in the lead, was talking in a 
lower tone to Peanut and Art. 

“ It was a fine game, and taught ^em a lot about 
woodcraft,^^ he was saying, “ but we mustn’t forget 
other things. Better get in Rob to teach first aid — 
he’s back on his vacation now ; and keep up on your 
signaling. And what are you doing to encourage 
the Brave Babies to do a good turn every day ? ” 

“ Well,” said Peanut, “ I made Jimmy help his 
mother beat carpets yesterday morning. He didn’t 
want to a bit I ” 

“ That’s something,” Mr. Rogers admitted, with a 
grin. “No, on second thought, that is a great 
deall” 


CHAPTER XIII 


Some Real Scout Work— Map Making, First 
Aid, and Lessons in Forestry 

MAP of a good time,” Jimmy was repeating. 



S~\ as he toiled over his map of Bald Face Moun- 
tain. “ That’s a funny idea. Say, maps never 
meant much to me before — just kind o’ pink and 
green things labeled Asia” 

“ Oh, maps are easy,” Albert answered. “ I like 
maps. Bet I could pass the first class test for map 
making right now.” 

The two boys were working in the sitting-room of 
Albert’s home, with big sheets of paper, pencils, pen 
and ink, and rulers on the table, and also, for guid- 
ance, a United States Geological Survey map of 
Southmead and vicinity spread out. It was raining 
hard outside. 

** Wish I could trace this old government map,” 
Jimmy finally exclaimed. ** I can’t get all these 
contour intervals in right.” 

“ Wouldn’t be fair to trace it,” said Albert. ** Be- 
sides, our maps would be too small if we did. Don’t 
try to put in all the contour lines. There’s a line for 


i 62 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


every twenty feet in the government map. Pm just 
putting in the hundred foot lines. That only makes 
ten lines for the whole mountain, from the base to 
the top, ’cause it’s 900 feet above sea level at the 
base.” 

Jimmy looked at the other’s map presently, and 
sighed. “ Oh, gee, wish I could draw like that I ” 



3^ Cop's Hvt 

1/vre/iv^fc. loo Peer, 


Albert’s Map of Bald Face Mountain 

he exclaimed. “ Wow, but you’re a neat drawer I 
Bet you have the best map ! ” 

“ Bet I do, too,” said Albert. 

“You’re not stuck on yourself, or anything, are 
you ? ” laughed Jimmy. 

As a matter of fact, when the maps were brought 


SOME REAL SCOUT WORK 163 

in to the Scout meeting the next evening Mr. Rog- 
ers, after carefully looking at them all, declared that 
Albert’s was the best. 

“ There’s only one thing wrong in it, so far as I 
can see,” said he. “You’ve made the brook flow 
on the dead level for nearly a mile.” 

Albert looked. “ That’s a fact,” he replied. “ The 
brook wasn’t on the government map at all. I had 
to put it in. I got the head water spring in the 
right place, and it crosses the road at the right place, 
but I’ve got it flowing between the 1300 and 1400 
foot contour lines too far, haven’t I ? ” 

“Yes,” the Scout Master replied. “I fancy it 
crosses the 1300 foot line about half-way down. It 
would take pretty careful surveying with instruments 
even I don’t know how to use, to determine just 
where. But the main point is, boys, that anybody 
could take Albert’s map, start out from Southmead 
with it, and find the paths to the top of the mountain 
as well as the Cave and perhaps the huts — that is, 
they could find the huts if they were real smart 
Scouts. The map shows where the mountain is 
steepest, too, though really, to show a precipice, 
Albert’s contour lines ought to be closer together.” 

“ I was afraid of blotting ’em if I got ’em closer,” 
Albert confessed. 

“ Well, the map’s a good one, and you ought to 
hang it up on the wall of the Scout House, I think,” 


164 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Mr. Rogers continued. “ Suppose you always put 
the best map of any hike you take up on the walls, 
eh ? That’ll be kind of a prize — a reward of merit.” 

“ Say, let’s begin taking the first class Scout test, 
where you have to make a seven mile trip and draw 
a map of it 1 ” cried Albert, elated by his success. 

“ Whoa ! ” laughed Peanut. “ You’re getting 
ahead of the game a bit, old top. Rob Evarts is 
coming next time, for first aid work. We’ve got to 
get the second class tests passed first. One thing at 
a time ! ” 

Rob Evarts, who had been one of the Scouts in 
the first patrol organized in Southmead, and who 
had been on all the long hikes, to Deerfield, to the 
Dismal Swamp, and to the White Mountains, had 
been graduated from Harvard at the same time Pea- 
nut and Art and Lou got through high school, for 
he was three years older than they were ; and now 
he had reached home for his summer vacation, be- 
fore entering the medical school in the autumn. 
Rob had always been the prize pupil in first aid, 
and he had gladly consented to help Peanut out 
with the new patrol. 

‘‘ Only let’s have our lessons on the field,” he said, 
“ not in the hot Scout House. Let’s go down where 
your huts are. I want to see the huts, anyhow.” 

For the next two or three weeks, therefore, the 
Wildcat Patrol had a meeting every Tuesday after- 


SOME REAL SCOUT WORK 


165 


noon at the hut area, and Rob gave instruction in 
first aid right on the field. Each hut team, also, 
had to learn how to make a stretcher with poles, cut 
on the spot, and their coats or sweaters, and then 
they had to carry another boy either up or down 
the mountain for half a mile, without spilling or 
jolting him. 

After each lesson in first aid came signal practice. 
As soon as the Scouts had all learned the alphabet, 
Cop and Old Hundred and Pete and Eddie climbed 
to the south peak, over the cliffs, while the other two 
teams went out into the fields beyond the woods at 
the base. Peanut gave the teams on the summit 
certain sentences to signal, without telling the other 
teams what they were, so that he was able to see if 
the boys below read them right. Then the boys 
below signaled sentences, and those on top had to 
repeat them. 

Art and sometimes Lou, Frank and Mr. Rogers 
would come down to the hut area for supper, and a 
camp-fire in the evening, at Cop and Old Hundred’s 
hut, which the whole patrol was enlarging till it 
would hold six or eight sleepers instead of two. The 
hut in the big cave was too dark and damp and 
stuffy for real comfort, and Art and Skinny’s hut in 
the tree wasn’t really practical, while Peanut and 
Jimmy’s hut, though Jimmy almost cried at the idea 
of abandoning it, couldn’t be reached after dark on 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


1 66 

account of the danger in climbing the lead. Of 
course Peanut, as Scout Master, had to be with the 
Scouts for the camp-fire. Finally, Eddie and Pete’s 
hut under the hemlocks, though they often slept in 
it, was too dangerous a place, Mr. Rogers said, to 
have a fire in. He ordered pointblank that they 
weren’t to cook in under those low hemlocks, with 
so many dry, dead twigs. Therefore it became 
necessary to enlarge Cop and Old Hundred’s hut, or 
else build a new one at some other place, and there 
didn’t seem to be a better place. When the job was 
finally done, the hut was a pole lean-to, thatched 
with bark from a big dead birch tree, and also with 
hemlock boughs, and with a soft floor of boughs, so 
thick that it made a glorious mattress. The big fire 
against the boulder threw back its heat in under the 
shelter when the night chill crept down the moun- 
tain, and the Wildcat Patrol had a shelter as cozy 
and tight for summer use as those of the Appalachian 
Club in the White Mountains. 

In the morning, after a bath in the brook a quar- 
ter of a mile below on the mountainside, and break- 
fast, Peanut each week assigned one Scout to the 
task of fixing the laterine trench, with a little shovel, 
and two more to the task of cleaning camp and air- 
ing the bedding. He never allowed the camp to be 
left any way but shipshape. As soon as the morn- 
ing cleaning up was done, the patrol had a lesson 


SOME REAL SCOUT WORK 


167 


from Art or Lou in telling the different kinds of 
trees. Some of the boys, at first, did not even know 
which were hard wood and which soft — which makes 
quite a difference when you are building a fire to 
cook over. 

“We got to learn ten species, to pass the first class 
test,” said Jimmy. “ S’pose there are ten kinds here 
on the mountain ? ” 

Art laughed. “Ten, eh?” he said. “Well, you 
just take a piece of paper, and put down all the 
kinds you see ! ” 

They stood still in their tracks and looked about, 
first of all. Close beside them were white pine, 
hemlock, red spruce and a cedar or two. 

“ There are four ; put ’em down,” said Art to 
Jimmy. “ Now, how would you tell the difference 
between a young spruce and a hemlock if you were 
describing it on your test?” 

Jimmy examined both trees carefully, but appeared 
to hesitate. 

“ See,” Art helped him, “ the needles of the hem- 
lock are not so stiff, and they lie out flat on the stem, 
while the stiff needles of the spruce stand out all 
around the stem, making a round formation. Now 
what’s this one ? ” 

The Scouts looked at a young tree Art was point- 
ing to. “ Spruce,” they all declared, all except Old 
Hundred, who knew the trees well. He laughed, 


i68 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

‘‘ Gee, they don’t know a fir balsam ! ” he ex- 
claimed. 

Art pointed out that the balsam has a richer, 
darker foliage than the spruce when young, and 
showed them the three little buds at the tips of each 
stem, which is an identifying mark. “ But smell it ; 
that’s the best way to tell,” he added. 

** Wow I what a bunk those boughs would make ! ” 
Jimmy cried. “Sleeping on perfume, all right, that 
would be 1 Why don’t we get some ? ” 

“ Because there are so few balsams on this moun- 
tain,” Art said. “ We don’t want to hurt any of ’em. 
There are five trees now, Jimmy.” 

They moved along, and in a hard wood area they 
found birch, chestnut, hickory, oak, ash, beech, three 
kinds of maple, sumach and moose-wood. That 
made sixteen. By the brook they found alder, an- 
other variety of oak, a sycamore, and tamaracks. 
That made twenty. Later they came upon some 
Scotch pine, which Art said must have been sown by 
birds, because the only other Scotch pine in town he 
knew about were big ones planted artificially in some 
of the grounds back in the village. That made 
twenty-one. Before the lesson was over, Jimmy had 
twenty-nine trees on his list, all growing between the 
road at the base and the summit of the mountain. 

“You see,” Art said, “if you really use your eyes 
in the woods, you can learn a lot of things. Remem- 


SOME REAL SCOUT WORK 


169 


ber that oak, maple, ash and hickory make the best 
fire coals to cook with. Chestnut snaps. Hickory 
and ash make the best staffs or poles for mountain 
climbing, pole vaulting, stretchers, or trapeze bars. 
Ash makes the best bows.” 

“ Gee, we’ll be first class Scouts before we’re second 
class,” chuckled Jimmy. 

“ There’s one second class test we haven’t worked 
up yet, though,” said Peanut, suddenly. “ Guess we 
all forgot it. That’s tracking. Next week we must 
have tracking trials.” 

At noon the boys v/ent home, as usual, leaving 
their blankets folded and hanging over a rope 
stretched along under the roof of the lean-to, and 
their cooking pots and so forth neatly stacked in a 
corner. 

On Friday afternoons there was baseball practice, 
and on Saturday morning each week a ball game, 
often with teams from neighboring towns. Playing 
together each week, with practice under Peanut’s 
direction, always playing with an umpire who called 
balls and strikes, the Brave Babies (as the other boys 
still called them) rapidly developed a team that won 
nearly all the games it played. There is a lot of 
science in baseball, a lot of team play required. You 
can’t just throw nine players together, who haven’t 
been drilled into acting in harmony, and win. 
Moreover, having balls and strikes called on him all 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


170 

the time made Old Hundred much more careful and 
steady in his pitching. When a team came from the 
next town that hadn’t been used to playing with an 
umpire, the Brave Babies used to get half a dozen, 
or even more, bases on balls, while Old Hundred 
wouldn’t give one. Then, too, Frank Nichols, Pea- 
nut, and others of the bigger Scouts used to pitch 
against the Brave Babies In practice, and after the 
smaller boys had learned to stand up and hit this 
swift pitching, they could land on the pitching of 
visitors their own size like Ty Cobb. 

“After all,” Peanut declared, “there’s only one 
way to learn to play any old game, and that’s to 
practice against a man who’s better’n you are. It 
makes you work hard all the time, and you’re always 
learning.” 


CHAPTER XIV 
The Tracking Test 

HE week after the lesson in trees, the patrol 



A went down to its camp for a tracking test. 
They all wore their Scout uniforms, and Frank, Lou, 
Art and Rob went along, too. They had now drilled 
and marched together enough so that they could 
keep step automatically. They made a good show- 
ing marching through" the village, and none of the 
other boys taunted them from the corners any more. 
Each Scout had his pack on his shoulders, his sheath 
hatchet at his belt, and a long, fairly slender, but 
tough ash staff, neatly sandpapered, in his hand. 
They found these staffs of great use in getting up 
and down the steepest parts of the mountain. 

Mr. Rogers came out to his gate as they passed 
and saluted, and once Peanut heard a man on the 
sidewalk say to another, “ Well, those Scouts step 
off as if they meant business. They’re out of mis- 
chief, too. Better thing for ’em than loafing ’round 
the streets I ” — and Peanut turned red with pleasure, 
for he suddenly felt as if he was earning his twenty- 
five dollars a month, and doing something that really 
helped in the world. 


172 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


When they reached the hut, plans were at once 
made for the tracking. The patrol was divided into 
three of the original hut teams, with Jimmy and 
Skinny doubling up for the fourth. Peanut, Lou, 
Frank and Rob Evarts each put on baseball shoes 
with spikes, to make tracks with, and each put on a 
pedometer, so he could see when he had gone a mile. 
Each team of Scouts was to follow one of these lead- 
ers, starting three minutes behind them. At the end 
of a mile the leaders were to stop, and if the Scouts 
got up to them in twenty-five minutes after the 
time of starting, they had passed the test. Art 
remained behind to start the Scouts off, and to 
follow along with Skinny and Jimmy, the two 
smallest, who had to double up into a new team, 
because, of course. Art and Peanut were not in this 
game. 

“ Now,” said Peanut, ” we’ll make all kinds of 
tracks, with our feet, by breaking down bushes, by 
going through pine where we’ll snap off dead twigs, 
and so on. You’ve got to keep your eyes open 
sharp. We’ll not try to throw you off the scent very 
hard — that wouldn’t be fair ; but each of us, in the 
mile, will try just once or twice to bluff you. Are 
you ready? Come on then, leaders I ” 

The four trail makers started off. Peanut went up 
the mountain, Rob went off along the ledge south- 
ward. The other two descended, 


THE TRACKING TEST 


173 

** Come back here when it’s over,” Peanut called 
back over his shoulder. 

Three minutes later Art gave the signal to follow, 
and away the Scouts went, eyes to the ground and 
bushes. Jimmy and Skinny were to follow Peanut, 
and with Art at their heels they started up the moun- 
tain. Art, of course, did not coach them — in fact, he 
didn’t need to, for both Jimmy and his companion 
had keen eyes and knew how to use them. They 
rushed at once for the spot where Peanut had disap- 
peared behind a big rock, and then began to search. 

“ Here ! ” cried Jimmy, “ here’s a mark of the 
spike I ” 

** Here it is again I ” Skinny answered, springing 
ahead. 

“ Look, there they go up that slope I ” cried Jimmy. 

Sure enough. Peanut had climbed a steep slope 
of rock which was covered with a thin layer of moss, 
and the spikes had torn up a plain trail. The pur- 
suers rushed up to the top, and stopped baffled for a 
moment, for the tracks ceased in a mass of pine 
needles in which the spikes seemed to make no 
mark. But Jimmy suddenly gave a yell, and 
pointed up the mountain again. There, not far 
on, the end of a low pine branch had been broken 
off, so that it dangled. They ran to it, and followed 
up the slope by means of branches broken here and 
there, till they came again to a rocky place, where 


174 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


occasional tearing up of the moss by PeanuPs spikes 
gave them the track. Thus they reached the top 
of the mountain, and by the last sign, a broken 
blueberry bush, made sure that Peanut had stepped 
up upon a big, flat, bare rock ledge, at least fifty 
feet long and twenty wide. 

“Wow!” said Jimmy. “Where’d he go now? 
Couldn’t make any tracks on this rock I ” 

Art said nothing, but waited to see what the 
Scouts would do. They did the wise thing, at 
Skinny’s suggestion. One went around the rock 
on one side, the other in the opposite direction, not 
on the ledge itself, but just below the edge. They 
met on the far side, quite baffled, for not a track had 
they seen. 

“ What shall we do ? ” asked Jimmy. “ Gee, we’re 
losing time I ” 

Art shook his head. “ That’s your job,” he an 
swered. 

“ I know 1 ” exclaimed Skinny. “ I bet he jumped 
off the edge somewhere as far as he could. Let’s go 
’round again, farther out.” 

This time Jimmy found, with a yell, the tracks 
where Peanut had landed — two heel marks in some 
soft ground, at least ten feet off the edge. 

“ Took a running jump,’^ Art laughed. 

They followed the way the feet pointed, and 
picked up the trail by broken bushes. Peanut had 


THE TRACKING TEST 


175 


soon struck into the regular path along the summit, 
where his spikes turned up the fresh earth in the 
bare spots, and though it would be sometimes ten 
feet between tracks, the pursuers followed rapidly 
— till all of a sudden there were no more tracks 
ahead ! 

** He’s turned off, and we’ve missed it — rats ! ” 
cried Jimmy. “ Come back ; you look left. I’ll look 
right.” 

Ten feet back on the trail, at the last spike mark, 
they began to search the ground and trees on either 
side, going farther and farther away from the path. 
Nearly fifteen feet away, on Skinny’s side, was 
another spike mark in some moss, and then a 
broken branch. 

“ Hooray I Got it again I ” called Skinny. “ But 
we’ve lost a lot o’ time.” 

From now on, down slope through the woods, 
they picked up the trail with some ease, for Peanut 
had been crashing down through laurel and small 
evergreen, and breaking twigs as he went. 

“Say,” Jimmy remarked, “seems to me he’s 
doubling back toward the hut.” 

Sure enough he was, for a few minutes later they 
came to a slope of mossy rock again, where Peanut 
had evidently simply sat down and slid, and it led 
to the end of the very ledge where the big boulder 
stood. 


176 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Bet he got the seat of his pants green there/* 
laughed Skinny, as he, too, sat down and slid. 

At the bottom of this slide, however, they lost the 
tracks entirely, and it took several precious moments 
before Jimmy picked up a spike mark in some black 
mould, nearly twenty feet away. It was on the hut 
side. They ran ahead, and there, sitting in the hut, 
was Peanut I 

“ Have we done it ? *’ both boys cried. 

Art looked at his watch. “ Easy,** said he ; ** in 
twenty-one minutes — four minutes to spare.’* 

“ Good work,” said the Scout Master. 

” Hooray I ” said the Scouts. 

” But how’d you manage to make it just a mile 
back to the hut ? ” Art asked. 

‘‘ Didn’t,” Peanut laughed. “ It was exactly a 
mile to the top of where I slid. But I tacked on 
the rest for good measure. I didn’t mean to slide, 
either — my foot slipped. Bet the seat of my pants 
is nice and green with moss I ” 

” You’re no rolling stone, if you gather moss, any- 
how,” laughed Art, a joke that Skinny didn’t see the 
point to, though Jimmy did. 

One by one the other teams came back now, and 
all of them had passed the test. 

” Say, we’ve passed all the second class tests now, 
except knowing the sixteen principal points of the 
compass, haven’t we ? ” Pete asked. 


THE TRACKING TEST 


177 


“ Guess you have, that’s a fact,” Peanut answered. 
** Won’t take any time to learn the compass points. 
Here, each of you take ’em down, and then memo- 
rize ’em. Next week we’ll have Mr. Rogers ’round, 
and somebody else from the Council, and you can 
all make fires and cook for ’em, and show ’em what 
you know about first aid, and the rest of it. Then 
you’ll get your second class badges.” 

** Hooray I” cried Jimmy, beginning the points of 
the compass, which Peanut had already taught him. 
“North, north-by-east, nor’-nor’-east, nor’east-by- 
north, northeast ; northeast-by-east, east-nor’east, 

east-by-north, east ; east-by-south ” 

“ Hold on ! ” cried Art. “ You’re boxing the com- 
pass, Jimmy. That’s all thirty-two points, not six- 
teen.” 

“ Well, if I know thirty-two, I know sixteen, don’t 
I?” Jimmy retorted; “ east-sou’ east, sou’east-by- 

east, sou’east ; sou’east-by-south ” 

“ Choke him I ” Peanut commanded — and Jimmy’s 
voice was suddenly hushed under a pile of boys. 

“ Well,” said Peanut, as they hiked home, “ you’ll 
all be second class Scouts next week. Then for the 
first class tests I Gee, if I could get you all first 
class Scouts before the summer is over, that would 
be going some 1 ” 


CHAPTER XV 


The Scouts Turn Detectives in Earnest 

B ut the second class tests were not held the 
following week. Before the time came, some- 
thing else happened. 

Nearly all of the woods and cliffs of Bald Face 
Mountain where the boys had built their huts were 
owned by one man, a rich man who had a big sum- 
mer place near Southmead. It was he who had 
given the Scouts permission to have their camp 
on his land, because, he said, he knew Scouts 
were careful and honest, and wouldn’t set any 
fires. The land was^ posted with trespass signs, and 
nobody except the Scouts was permitted to light 
fires on it. 

But on the Monday afternoon following the track- 
ing, Peanut got a telephone message from Mr. Rog- 
ers to come right over to his house, as fast as he 
could. He jumped on his wheel, and four minutes 
later stood in the room with the head Scout Master 
and Mr. Parsons, the owner of the land, who was 
looking very stern and angry. 

“This is Robert Morrison, the assistant Scout 
178 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES 179 

Master, Mr. Parsons,” said Mr. Rogers. “You had 
better ask him to explain.” 

“ Explain what ? ” said Peanut, turning a little 
pale and growing uncomfortable, though he couldn’t 
imagine what the Scouts had done wrong. 

“ Have you boys been digging up my ferns ? ” 
asked Mr. Parsons. 

“Digging up ferns? Of course not!” the boy 
exclaimed. “What would we dig up ferns for?” 

“ I don’t know,” the man replied. “ I only know 
that I took a walk over the mountain this morning, 
and came upon several places where the ferns had 
been pulled up — great quantities of them. Some- 
times they had been broken off — sometimes yanked 
out by the roots. You know it’s Strictly against the 
law to pick ferns on another man’s property. One 
of the reasons I bought the Bald Face woods was to 
preserve the beautiful flora in them.” 

“ Well, the Scouts haven’t pulled any ferns,” Pea- 
nut replied, hotly. “ We’ve been careful as can be. 
Art wouldn’t even let the kids use balsam boughs 
for a bunk, because he said there were so few bal- 
sams in the woods. Why do you accuse us ? ” 

“ I’m not accusing you,” Mr. Parsons said, more 
mildly. “ I was pretty mad at the loss of my ferns, 
though, and as I knew you boys had been in there a 
lot lately I came here first Perhaps I was hasty. I 
admit }'ou Scouts have never violated my confidence 


i8o THE WILDCAT PATROL 

before. Well, if it wasn’t you chaps, there’s a job 
for you, to find out who did do it. If you catch the 
culprits. I’ll give you a reward.” 

We’ll find out, all right, but we don’t take re- 
wards in the Scouts,” said Peanut. “ Whereabouts 
were the ferns that had been pulled ? ” 

“ Near the head of the brook, almost at the top of 
the mountain,” the man answered. “ I went over on 
the other side of the top, too, and found the thieves 
had been at work over there, also. That land be- 
longs to somebody in the next town. Well, you 
chaps report to me when you find out anything.” 

“ Yes, sir,” Peanut answered. 

When he had gone, Peanut broke loose. ** Why’d 
he accuse us ? ” he demanded. “ Called us as good 
as thieves, that’s what he did I ” 

“ Steady, steady,” said Mr. Rogers. “ He’s a 
quick-tempered man, and very much attached to 
the ferns and wild flowers in his woods. You must 
make allowances for him. Besides, he took it back 
handsomely, and it isn’t everybody would let a lot 
of boys loose in his woods with axes and matches, 
I can tell you.” 

“ I s’ pose not. Who do you guess did swipe his 
old ferns ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” the Scout Master answered, “ but 
I have a shrewd idea that there’s a story in it for the 
Herald, if you can land it.” 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES i8i 


Peanut pricked up his ears. “ A real story, do you 
mean — front page ? 

“ Shouldn’t wonder,” Mr. Rogers laughed. “ You 
see, I read only the other day of a case not so very 
far from here, where a band of men were arrested for 
fern picking. It seems they had been going into the 
woods at night, and picking very early in the morn- 
ing, before folks were around, and then taking out 
great crates of ferns which they shipped to the 
florists in New York from some station far enough 
away not to attract suspicion. Have you ever seen 
any strangers on Bald Face ? ” 

“ Nary a one,” Peanut answered. “ But we 
haven’t seen any signs of fern picking, either.” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Rogers, “ it’s evidently just be- 
gun. I guess we’d better round up as many of the 
patrol as we can and go down there to-night, and 
camp on the job.” 

“ Hooray I you going too ? ” 

“Yes, I think I’d better be along for this. To tell 
the truth, I don’t like the looks of it. Fern pickers 
are usually foreigners, and they don’t always mind 
pulling a knife or a gun.” 

“ Say, this will make a story ! ” Peanut cried, as he 
got on his wheel and started off to round up the patrol. 

As this was an extra meeting, and unexpected, he 
could only get Cop, Old Hundred, Jimmy and Art. 
All the other boys had something to do for their 


i 82 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


parents which kept them at home, much to their dis- 
gust Traveling light, with provisions for two meals, 
and their blankets, this party set off, toward the end 
of the afternoon. They didn’t approach the moun- 
tain by the usual way — the path under Art’s hut — 
but took the longer trail up the northern shoulder 
and along the summit ridge. 

When they reached the depression where the 
brook rose, Mr. Rogers suggested, as it was still 
light, that some of the party go down on the west 
side, and some on the east, to see how much damage 
had really been done. 

“ Meet before dark at the camp,” he said. 

Peanut, Art and Jimmy descended on the west 
side, out of the hut area into the woods which sloped 
down to the town of Bentford, while Mr. Rogers, Cop 
and Old Hundred took the brook bed. 

The first party had not advanced far before they 
saw plentiful signs of fern picking. In one place, a 
huge, flat boulder, the top of which had been 
covered with a thin deposit of leaf mould and moss 
in which a bed of ferns had grown up, was prac- 
tically stripped bare. Examining around its base. 
Art pointed out where heel marks were plainly 
visible in some of the black mould which had been 
dragged down. 

‘‘ Gee, those are men’s feet, all right,” he said. 
• About number elevens, I guess!” 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES 183 

** Look,” said Jimmy, “ they’ve taken the ferns, 
roots and all.” 

“ I s’pose it’s easier to pull ’em up than to pick 
’em, and they probably stay fresh longer,” Art an- 
swered. “ I don’t blame Mr. Parsons for getting 
mad.” 

They went on a little farther down the mountain, 
finding more evidences of ruthless destruction of the 
finest ferns, and then, as twilight was coming on, 
they pushed back to the summit, and scrambled 
down to the camp. 

Before they dropped over the last ledge, however, 
they heard angry voices, and when they reached the 
lean-to Cop, Old Hundred and Mr. Rogers were 
standing before it, the two boys talking excitedly. 

** What’s the trouble ? ” Peanut asked. 

“What ain’t?” cried Cop. “Gee whiz, some- 
body’s been here and swiped the two old blankets 
we left hanging inside for emergencies, an’ used all 
the kettles and things, and swiped the fryin’-pan, 
and ” 

“ But they didn’t find the hatchet,” Old Hundred 
cut in. “That was hidden under the hemlock 
boughs.” 

“ Who do you suppose did it ? ” Art exclaimed. 

“ I’d like to catch him ! ” muttered Peanut. 

“ Do you suppose it was any fellers who aren’t 
Scouts?” Jimmy suggested. 


184 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


'‘Aw, they wouldn’t be so mean,” Old Hundred 
said. “They might rough-house the hut, for fun, but 
they wouldn’t swipe things.” 

“ The fern pickers ! ” Peanut exclaimed. “ I’ll bet 
it was them — I mean they I ” 

“ Just what I’ve been thinking all along,” said the 
Scout Master. “ Well, going without our supper 
won’t help matters. Let’s eat now, and talk it over 
later.” 

They made a fire, having to chop a fresh supply 
of wood, for whoever had been at the hut had used 
up the pile which had been stacked beside the lean-to. 
After supper, by the firelight, they sat and laid their 
plans. 

“Say, if it was the fern thieves who stole the 
blankets,” said Peanut, “ why won’t they come here 
again to-night? And if they hear us here, they’ll be 
scared off, won’t they ? Maybe we ought to go some- 
where else to spend the night.” 

“ I want to air a theory of mine,” Art put in. 
“You know, yesterday was Sunday, and people 
don’t have to work on Sunday. From the fact that 
the picking evidently began over on the Bentford 
side, and worked up and over the ridge, I dope it 
out that the pickers came up from Bentford. From 
the fact that our hut wasn’t bothered or the ferns on 
this side picked, till yesterday, I think they’ve just 
got through with that other side, and came up over 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES 185 

Saturday night or Sunday, and wandering Tound 
the mountain stumbled on this hut Now, there are 
a lot of foreigners, Polacks and so on, who work in 
the mills in Bentford. Sunday’d be the only day 
they’d have. They could get away Saturday after- 
noon, and cart out their bundles of ferns Sunday 
night, after dark, and be back at work at seven o’clock 
Monday morning. I’ll bet the hole in a doughnut 
against the inside of a lead pipe that we won’t find 
anybody on the mountain to-morrow morning.” 

“ Some Sherlock Holmes you are ! ” said Peanut. 
“ But maybe they’re regular fern thieves, who just go 
around the country on this job.” 

“ Maybe,” Art answered. “ But I’m betting you, 
just the same.” 

“ I’m inclined to think there’s something in what 
Art says,” Mr. Rogers remarked. “We’ll see in the 
morning. If they are traveling pickers, as Peanut 
suggests, they’ll be on the job to-morrow, to get this 
spot cleared as soon as possible and move on to the 
next town. I guess we’ll post sentinels to-night, to 
listen and find out if anybody approaches camp. 
We’d better get the fire out and the camp still as 
quick as we can. You take the first watch—two 
hours — and then wake Cop, and he’ll wake Jimmy 
after two hours, and Jimmy wake Old Hundred and 
Old Hundred wake Peanut, and at three o’clock. 
Peanut, you wake the whole camp.” 


i86 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


The boys curled up in their blankets in the lean-to, 
Art put out the fire, and in five minutes the dark 
woods were silent, the camp was silent, and Art, 
stealing around to the front side of the big boulder, 
sat down with his back to a tree and listened to the 
whisper of the night wind in the evergreens over- 
head, till he heard the far-off village clock toll ten. 
Then he softly roused Cop. 

“ Nothin’ doing,” he whispered, as he crawled into 
Cop’s place in the lean-to. ” Don’t you go to sleep 
on watch, though.” 

At three o’clock Peanut roused the whole camp. 
Nothing had happened in the night. After a hasty 
breakfast, cooked by the firelight, they set off toward 
the head of the brook. 

“ Now, remember,” said Mr. Rogers, “ we are de- 
tectives, not policemen. It’s our job to see these 
thieves at work, so we can witness what they've 
done, and then, without letting them see us, to fol- 
low them and see where they go.” 

“Ain’t we goin’ to pinch ’em?” Cop demanded. 

“ You may be a Cop in name, but not yet in fact,” 
the Scout Master laughed. “ We’ve not got any au- 
thority to arrest ’em. All our job is, is to find out 
who they are.” 

“ Aw, I thought we were goin’ to pinch ’em I ” Cop 
sighed. 

But though they reached the head of the brook 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES 187 

before sunrise, and scoured the whole region for two 
hours in parties, even descending on the west side 
of the mountain, no pickers did they see. 

“ ’Fraid Art’s right,” said Peanut. 

“I’m afraid he is, too,” said Mr. Rogers. “Well, 
the best we can do is to go home now, and be on the 
job again Saturday night. Then we’ll find out.” 

They descended by the regular path, under Art’s 
hut. Just below the hut, on the edge of the pasture. 
Art, who was ahead and keeping his usual sharp 
lookout, uttered an exclamation. The rest ran up. 
He was pointing to a spot, close to the path, where 
a team had stood. There were the dim marks of 
wheels, the place where the horse had pawed the 
ground, and on the ground where the wagon had 
stood the withered tips and broken leaves of many 
ferns. 

“ Hooray I a clew I ” cried Peanut. “ They carted 
their *ferns off from here in a team I” 

“ Marvelous, Mr. Holmes, marvelous 1 ” Art 
laughed. “ How’d you ever guess it ? ” 

They tracked the team down through the pasture 
to the road, which at this point had no houses on it 
for half a mile or more in either direction. The 
team had evidently turned south, away from South- 
mead. 

“ We’ll have to bring bikes, and trail ’em,” said 
Art, briefly. 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


1 88 

On Saturday afternoon, the same Scouts were 
rounded up again, with Skinny and Pete and Albert 
in addition. Four of the boys — Peanut, Jimmy, Old 
Hundred and Albert — had bicycles, which they 
brought along, and hid in the bushes back from the 
road, close to the spot where the fern pickers’ wagon 
had emerged into the highway. Then the whole 
party, instead of going up to the regular camp, went 
southward, to the woods below the cliff where Peanut 
and Jimmy’s hut had been. 

“We’ll be far enough away here so the pickers, if 
they’re at the camp again, won’t see or hear us,” the 
Scout Master said. 

After supper he assigned Peanut, Art, Jimmy and 
Old Hundred to stalk up to the camp in the dark, 
and see if it was occupied. The rest begged to go, 
but he wouldn’t allow it. 

“ No, the more there are, the greater the danger 
of being heard,” he said. “ If the thieves guess we 
are around they’ll get scared. Our whole success 
lies in never letting them see us.” 

The rest, disappointed, sat down around the camp- 
fire, while the four boys assigned to the stalking job 
disappeared into the dark. 

They reached the path up the mountain with con- 
siderable difficulty, recognizing it chiefly by the feel- 
ing of smoothness under their feet, and then climbed 
till they thought they had come to the spot where 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES 189 

they ought to turn off to the right. They now had 
several hundred yards to go along the rough, steep 
ledges before coming to the big boulder, and it was 
hard, in the dark, to keep from making a noise, 
breaking dead sticks, twigs and so forth. But they 
crept on as silently as they could, and presently 
heard voices out of the darkness ahead and above 
them. 

“ They’re up there I ” whispered Art. “ We are 
too low on the mountain. Come on, now — easy.” 

They soon reached the lower side of the big 
boulder, and could easily hear voices from behind it. 

“ Peanut, you and Jimmy go ’round to the right, 
keeping well back into the woods so they can’t see 
you,” Art whispered. “ Old Hundred, you crawl 
’round to the left. Go twenty feet on back into the 
woods, or the firelight’ll hit your face and give you 
away. I’ll crawl up and around over their heads. 
Hear all you can, and get a look at their faces. 
When you hear a screech-owl whistle, back toward 
the path, all come to it, and join me at the path. 
Softly, now — mind, no noise, and don’t let the fire- 
light hit you ! ” 

The four Scouts separated into the pitch black 
woods, and began to stalk around the boulder. 
Jimmy followed Peanut, who went along the lower 
ledge some distance, and then climbed up to the 
next one, on which the boulder stood. They could 


190 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


now see the glint of firelight through the trees, and 
crept toward it, soon dropping to their hands and 
knees and crawling under the low branches of the 
hemlocks. Advancing in this way, they got within 
fifteen feet of the camp, and lay on their stomachs, 
their faces screened by a tiny seedling evergreen 
through which they peeped. 

They could now see a bright fire burning in their 
fire pit against the boulder, and on it a pot boiling, 
while three men sat on the edge of the lean-to, talk- 
ing. One of the men got up and looked in the pot, 
and they saw his face. He was very evidently a 
foreigner. 

“ Gosh, I wish I knew what language they were 
talking 1 ” whispered Peanut. “ He looks like a 
Pole.” 

They listened intently, but not a word of English 
did the three men speak. The two boys managed to 
get a good look at all their faces, however. 

Then, from some distance off, came the soft, 
melancholy whistle of a screech-owl — Whoo-oo-oo-oo~ 
0-0-0-00. The men pricked up their ears and listened 
intently. It came again, and one of them laughed 
and said something in the strange language, whereat 
the other two paid no more attention. 

“ Good old Art, he can fool ’em,” Peanut whis- 
pered. 

He and Jimmy wormed their way back noiselessly 


THE SCOUTS TURN DETECTIVES 191 


to the ledge below, and crept along the edge under 
the boulder, and so back toward the path, guided 
now and then by Art’s whistle. They found him and 
Old Hundred waiting. 

‘‘ Well, did you understand what they were talk- 
ing about ? ” Art asked. 

“ Sure I ” said Peanut. “ Didn’t we, Jimmy? ” 

*‘Sure,” said Jimmy, “every word.” 

The four Scouts reported at camp, and it was a 
long time before the excitement of the news per- 
mitted anybody to get to sleep. 


CHAPTER XVI 


Caught With the Goods 

I T was Art, as usual, who roused camp in the morn- 
ing. After a hurried wash and breakfast, the 
day's campaign was planned out^ and the Scouts as- 
signed to their posts. 

Pete and Albert were assigned to the summit ridge 
of the mountain. 

“ Your job is to patrol the ridge," said Mr. Rogers, 
“ and see that the men don’t cross it and go down 
on the other side without somebody following them. 
You must be very careful not to let them see you, 
though, under any circumstances. If they cross the 
ridge toward Bentford, follow ’em, and keep ’em 
shadowed, if you have to trail ’em till to-morrow 
morning. Our job is to find out who they are and 
where they live. Take some stuff you can eat with- 
out a fire. We’ll all have to go hungry for the next 
fifteen hours, I guess — or more." 

Skinny and Cop were assigned to the patrol of 
the pasture at the base of the mountain, with head- 
quarters in Skinny’s hut in the tree. 

‘‘ Your job is to see that the men don’t slip away 
192 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 


193 


on that side,” said the Scout Master, “and also to 
watch for any team that may drive up to the entrance 
of the path. If they start off in the team without 
any of the rest of us appearing behind, you take two 
of the bicycles, and follow ^em, at a distance, so 
they won’t suspect you. Don’t let ’em see you come 
out of the woods behind ’em.” 

That left Art, Peanut, Jimmy, Old Hundred and 
the Scout Master himself to do the actual stalking. 

“ Now, everybody — a final word,” Mr. Rogers 
said. “ First, we want a signal. Let’s take the 
chickadees’ spring song — that’s easy to imitate. 
When you hear this once it means. Watch out ! 
When you hear it twice it means. Go toward the 
sound.” 

And he imitated the whistle 

4 -^ . . ■■ 


“ In the second place,” he continued, “ don’t under 
any circumstances^ if you should get caught watch- 
ing these men, let yourselves be drawn into a row 
with them. If you get caught, just pretend you 
were out for a hike, and keep on walking. We are 
only detectives, not policemen. We mustn’t let 
them suspect. But dorUt get caughtP 
The Scouts now separated toward their posts, 



194 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Art, Peanut and Jimmy were to go up by the bed 
of the brook, as cautiously as possible, to see if the 
men were picking down from the top. Mr. Rogers 
himself and Old Hundred were to go directly to the 
camp, and stalk the thieves. If the fern pickers 
didn’t go to the brook, but to some other point, Old 
Hundred could sneak away and round up the other 
party, while Mr. Rogers watched. 

The woods were still dark, though the cliff wall 
was already turning pink with the flush of coming 
sunrise, as the four parties moved away through the 
dew-soaked bushes, having first hidden their blan- 
kets under some thick laurel. 

Cop and Skinny turned speedily down toward the 
entrance to the path. The Scout Master and Old 
Hundred kept on up for a way with Pete and 
Albert. Peanut, Art and Jimmy turned at once 
into the little ravine of the brook, and disappeared. 
Good-byes and cautions were spoken in whispers. 

It was no easy matter toiling up the ravine of the 
brook, which in places was very steep, and blocked 
with fallen trees. But it afforded good cover, and 
it was on the rocky sides of this ravine that the 
largest and handsomest ferns grew. The three 
toiled upward in silence, very cautiously poking 
their heads over the top of each fresh shelf and 
taking a long look up-stream before they climbed 
to a new advance. They had been ascending for 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 


195 


twenty minutes or more, diagonally up the side of 
the mountain, and the sun had risen, making the 
woods much lighter and illuminating the tops of the 
trees above their heads, when suddenly Art whis- 
pered ‘‘ Sh ! ” and stopped in his tracks. 

The others listened. Off to the left, in the di- 
rection of the camp, and slightly below them on the 
mountain now, they heard voices, very faintly. The 
voices seemed to grow nearer. 

“ Quick I Art said. “ Get up the bank to the 
right, and hide I ” 

The three Scouts scrambled up the bank of the 
ravine, on the side down the slope, and hid under a 
low, thick, young hemlock clump. 

The voices grew nearer. They could now hear 
the crack of dead twigs and the swish of bushes as 
somebody trod through them. A moment or two 
later, across the ravine, they saw the three men of 
last night, laughing and chattering in their strange 
tongue, going up the mountain evidently toward 
the point on the brook where they had stopped the 
Sunday before. Each man had four large baskets, 
suspended across his shoulders on a pole, two on 
each side. 

“ We’re going to get the goods on ’em all right 1 ” 
whispered Peanut. 

Gee, come on ! they’ll be out o’ sight ! ” said 
Jimmy, half springing up. 


196 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Art pulled him down. “ You’ll get caught if you’re 
not careful,” he cautioned. 

The Scouts lay still for several minutes longer, till 
the men were out of sight and almost out of hearing. 
Then, as they were rising to follow. Art detected, 
across the ravine, the forms of Old Hundred and 
Mr. Rogers, silently following on the trail of the 
pickers. 

He whistled the chickadee call once, very softly, 
and waved his hand. The others saw him and 
waved back, signaling for him to keep on that side 
of the brook. So he and Peanut and Jimmy followed 
up-stream on that side, going ever more cautiously 
now, for they soon began to hear the voices plainly 
again. 

Finally they realized that the pickers were within 
twenty-five or thirty yards, and they dropped on 
their hands and knees, and crept up behind the 
cover of a big rock and some low laurel bushes, and 
peeped down into the ravine of the brook. At this 
point both banks of the brook, and the steep sides 
of the ravine, were a mass of lovely ferns, which the 
three men were systematically and ruthlessly break- 
ing off or pulling up, whichever was easier. They 
then laid the ferns, carefully, flat on the bottoms of 
their baskets, pressing them gently down. In this 
way, the boys realized, they could gather many 
hundreds of ferns. 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 


197 


Art beckoned the other two back from their van- 
tage point, to a place where he could whisper in safety. 

There’s no use of all three of us watching,” he 
said, “ and more risk. We’ll take turns one at a 
time. I’ll take first watch. The others can wait down 
here, out of sight. We’ve caught ’em at their dirty 
work now, and all we’ve got to do is to trail ’em.” 

** Gee, I wish there was some way to save the 
ferns,” said Peanut. “They’ll have all the brook 
stripped before the day’s over.” 

“ I wish so, too,” sighed Art. “ But I guess there 
isn’t.” 

He went back to the lookout, and Peanut and 
Jimmy lay down in the woods below, and waited. 
It was not very exciting, and the hour seemed ages 
before Art called Peanut to the watch. 

Peanut found the pickers had moved some little 
way down-stream now, stripping the banks as they 
went. He looked for some sign of Mr. Rogers and 
Old Hundred across the ravine, but couldn’t see 
hide nor hair of them, though he felt sure they were 
there. He noticed the pickers were getting their 
baskets full, and wondered what they would do then. 
He didn’t have long to wonder. They stopped 
picking presently, and took out some sacks from 
the bushes, into which they very carefully trans- 
ferred the ferns from their baskets. Then they began 
picking again I 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


198 

** Gosh/^ sighed Peanut, “ what a slaughter I If 
there was only some way to stop them ! 

His hour was almost up. The sun was now high 
in the heavens, the woods bright. It was after seven 
o’clock. But they still had a whole day to pick in. 
They could strip the entire brook bed. 

Peanut went back angrily to send Jimmy up to 
watch. 

Jimmy had been gone nearly an hour, and Peanut 
and Art were half dozing in the shadow, stretched 
out on the pine needles, when suddenly they heard, 
not far below them, evidently in the ravine of the 
brook, a loud, cheerful whistle. It wasn’t the whistle 
of the pickers. It was a familiar whistle, a tune 
Mr. Rogers liked. 

“ It’s Mr. Rogers I ” both boys exclaimed. ‘‘ What’s 
he doing that for?” 

Springing to their feet, they stalked the sound. 
Jimmy was still shadowing the pickers. They could 
barely see the soles of his boots, sticking out under a 
laurel bush. They went on down, till the whistling was 
opposite them, and peeped into the ravine. There 
were Mr. Rogers and Old Hundred, talking, whistling, 
singing, and taking a bath in a pool of the brook I 

” Wow ! it’s cold ! brrr ! ” Old Hundred was yell- 
ing at the top of his lungs. 

“What on earth are they doing?” Peanut whis- 
pered. “ Let’s go down and ask ’em.” 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 


199 


Art restrained him. “ Wait a minute,’' he said. 
‘‘ They’ve got some reason for it, you may be sure. 
We don’t want to risk being seen by the pickers.” 

He gave the chickadee call once, and when the 
two bathers looked in his direction, he waved a hand 
out of the bushes and whispered, loud enough to be 
heard, “ What are you doing ? ” 

Mr. Rogers climbed out of the brook on their side, 
whistling carelessly, and when he was near them 
suddenly said, in a low tone, “ Get on your job I 
We’re out for a morning walk. We're going to 
have lunch here, too. Then they can’t pick any 
more ferns in this brook. ‘ It’s a long way to Tip- 
perary,’ ” he began to sing again, and splashed back 
into the pool. 

‘‘ Say I he’s done what I wished we could do I ” 
exclaimed Peanut, in admiration. “ He’s saving the 
ferns!” 

The two Scouts crept back to Jimmy, and peeped 
over at the pickers. There they were, all three of 
them, fishing 1 They had strings tied to green poles, 
evidently just cut. There was no sign of a basket or 
a sack I 

Jimmy crept back out of ear-shot with Peanut, and 
whispered excitedly, “ Soon’s they heard Mr. Rogers 
and Old Hundred singing and splashing, they just 
hid those baskets under some bushes, and cut their 
poles, and went to fishin*. One of ’em had bait in a 


200 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


can in his coat pocket. Gee, I know where the 
baskets are, though 1 One of ’em sneaked down to 
see who was making the noise, and came back and 
said something in that language they talk.” 

“ If Mr. Rogers and Old Hundred stay there, the 
thieves’ll go off somewhere else and pick, probably,” 
Peanut reflected. “We’ve got to shadow ’em close, 
now.” 

It was evident, after an hour or two, that Mr. Rog- 
ers and Old Hundred didn’t intend to go away. 
Sounds of their whistling continued. The three 
pickers grew restless, but kept up their bluff of 
fishing. Finally, after a muttered conference, they 
went to the bushes where their sacks were hidden, 
each took one basket, and they moved away from 
the brook straight up the mountain. 

“ Quick, Jimmy I ” said Peanut. “ Go tell Mr. 
Rogers and Old Hundred. Art and I’ll follow ’em. 
We’ll cross the brook behind ’em right here, and 
break twigs for a trail as we go, about face high.” 

Jimmy went down, and the other two stalked be- 
hind the pickers, keeping them always just in sight 
or ear-shot. The thieves went up the steep side of 
the mountain a little way, and after searching around 
for boulders with nice ferns on them, began to pick. 
Art and Peanut concealed themselves in bushes not 
far off, and watched. 

Fifteen minutes later, they heard down the slope 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 


201 


the cheery whistle of the Scout Master and Old 
Hundred’s voice. The two were continuing their 
morning walk I The thieves, with angry mutterings 
in their strange language, hastily hid their baskets, 
got out pipes, and sitting down under the trees pre- 
tended to be idly smoking. Peanut and Art almost 
laughed out loud. 

Old Hundred and the Scout Master went by some 
way to the left, so the men could not see their faces 
at all, but only vaguely catch a hint of their bodies, 
and hear their gay talk and whistling. They went 
on up the mountain a little way, but not out of ear- 
shot, and then they evidently stopped, and began to 
chop a tree, for the blows of the axe could be plainly 
heard. 

The three thieves, very much disgusted, got up, 
looked craftily around, got their baskets out of hid- 
ing, and moved on along the mountain. 

Jimmy, who had by now caught up with Art and 
Peanut, once more went up to inform the Scout 
Master, and Peanut and Art stalked the thieves, again 
making a trail for the others to follow. 

In this way they broke up another picking, and 
the disgusted thieves finally returned to their original 
point at the brook, and after making sure (to their 
own satisfaction) that at last nobody was around, 
they got their lunch out from their hidden baskets, 
and ate, while Peanut, Art and Jimmy, who had had 


202 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

no lunch, looked hungrily on, for it was now after one 
o’clock. 

About half-past two, just as they had started to 
pick again, fresh voices were heard. This time real 
walkers were passing — some people from the village 
out for a stroll over the old wood road which came 
up near the brook bed. The thieves had to hide their 
baskets once more. 

Say,” Peanut chuckled, “ they certainly are hav- 
ing a bad day of it I ” 

It was almost an hour later that they started in 
once more, but only two of them this time. The third 
one put on his coat and started down the mountain. 

** After him, Jimmy, and see where he goes,” said 
Art. ” He’s probably going to get a team. Take a 
wheel if he goes out by the regular path.” 

The other two pickers worked down the brook a 
way, uninterrupted, for Mr. Rogers and Old Hun- 
dred had evidently decided not to risk any more dis- 
turbances. 

Presently the two Scouts heard a chickadee call 
twice, not far off, and going to it found the Scout 
Master. 

“ I’ve sent Old Hundred on a bike to the village 
for Hardy, the policeman,” he said. “ I saw you 
sent Jimmy to trail the third man. They’re going to 
take their swag out in a team, no doubt, as they did 
before. We’ll have the policeman hidden at the foot 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 


203 


of the path, and follow the team to find out where 
they sell the ferns, and then pinch ^em. Now, boys, 
back on the job. Take turns watching, and get a 
cold bite to eat if you can.” 

I got a pocket full of raisins. I’m all right,” said 

Art. 

“ Me, too,” said Peanut. 

The two pickers, before six o’clock, returned to 
their sacks, and loaded down with them, and the full 
baskets beside, started the descent of the mountain. 
The boys, weary with the long vigil of watching in 
silence, and Mr. Rogers, who joined them, started in 
pursuit. They went directly down the slope, with- 
out using the path, till they got nearly to the pasture, 
and then skirted along the woods toward the end of 
the path. Here they deposited their loads, and sat 
down to wait. 

Peanut stalked around them to the foot of the 
trees which hid the hut, and whistled once, softly. 
Skinny and Cop descended. 

“ We saw Jimmy stalking a man out,” they said. 
** He’s not come back. Old Hundred has, though. 
He and the cop are hidden just back up the path, 
behind the second big rock. They left word to tell 
you, if we saw you.” 

‘‘ Good,” said Peanut. “ We’re ready now I ” 

They didn’t have long to wait. It was just grow- 
ing dusk as a one horse team, with the third man 


204 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


seated in the old covered delivery wagon, turned in 
from the road across the pasture, and stopped near 
the entrance to the woods. The man gave a low, 
peculiar whistle, which was answered by the other 
two. They emerged from the woods, and began to 
unpack the ferns carefully, and lay them into two 
large wooden crates which they took out of the 
wagon. When the crates were full, they nailed on 
the covers and hoisted them back into the wagon. 

Meanwhile, just up the path in the heavy shadow 
of the woods, the policeman waited, and in the 
shadows, too, along the pasture, were the Scouts, 
even Jimmy, who had returned behind the man in 
the team, left his wheel by the road, and sneaked 
across the pasture far enough north to escape detec- 
tion. 

“ He got the team in Bentford,” Jimmy whispered. 
“ I got the stable spotted.” 

Not a sound betrayed the watchers. The three 
men worked in perfect unconsciousness, and no doubt 
were telling each other in their strange language how 
lucky they were 1 

Then they all climbed into the wagon, and drove 
off toward the road. 

When they were well away from the woods. Pea- 
nut started after them, walking rapidly, to make sure 
which way they turned. As it was a covered wagon, 
they could not see him. The rest waited, for greater 


CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS 205 

caution, till the wagon had reached the highway. 
Then they dashed after. 

‘‘ They turned south, Peanut said, as the rest 
came up. ‘‘ Quick, wheels 1 ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


The Round Up 


HE policeman, Peanut, Jimmy and Old Hundred 



i snatched their wheels out of the bushes, and 
saying good-bye to Mr. Rogers, Art, Cop and 
Skinny, started off in pursuit. 

Wish we were going I ” sighed Cop. 

“ I am going,'^ cried Skinny. “ Here’s Albert’s 
wheel 1 ” 

“ Aw, no, let me have it. You can’t reach the 
pedals I ” cried Cop. 

“ No, Pm goin’ to have it ! ” 

“ No, / am. I’m bigger, ain’t I, Mr. Rogers?” 

“When it comes to that. I’m bigger than either of 
you,” said Art. 

The two had grabbed the wheel, and were strug- 
gling to get on it. 

“You’re neither of you going to have it,” the 
Scout Master said. “ There are enough following 
now. Remember, Albert and Pete are still on top 
of the mountain. We’ve got to go up and get them. 
Come on, it’s almost dark now. It wouldn’t be fair 
to leave ’em there all night.” 

So they started back toward the mountain and in 


THE ROUND UP 


207 


the woods began to shout for Albert and Pete to 
come down, finally making themselves heard when 
they had reached a point half-way up. The six re- 
turned to Southmead, and gathered at Mr. Rogers’ 
house to await the news. 

Meanwhile the policeman, Peanut, Old Hundred 
and Jimmy were riding down the road behind the 
wagon, which they very soon caught. The horse 
was old, the load heavy, and though the drivers 
whipped the poor beast unmercifully, the riders had 
an easy time keeping up. “ In fact,” said Jimmy, 
“ it would be easier to ride faster.” 

But they kept several hundred feet in the rear, and 
the boys told Hardy all about the day’s adventures, 
and exactly what they had seen. 

** Well, we’ve got witnesses enough to make a case 
that’ll put ’em in the jug for fair I” Hardy said. 
“ Some detectives, you kids are ! All we need now 
is to know where they ship the stuff.” 

The road soon began to descend a long hill, really 
the southern shoulder of Bald Face, and came to a 
fork, one branch leading to Bentford, the other further 
south to the small station of Twin Falls, down the 
railroad about five miles. The team kept on this 
road. 

“ Gee I five miles more I ” sighed Old Hundred. 

And us with no supper I” 

It was dark now, and they rode in closer to the 


208 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


team, and stopped talking. After three-quarters of 
an hour, the team drove up to the small station by 
the railroad track, the men backed it to the platform, 
and unloaded the crates. 

Nobody was about but the station agent, who was 
waiting for the evening train. 

“ Hello, boys,” he said to the three men. ** Same 
place ? ” 

The men grunted yes. The Scouts, who had dis- 
mounted and were waiting in the dark close by, 
could hear plainly. 

“ Well, wait a minute, and Fll write the labels for 
you. But where do you boys get this stuff, anyhow ? 
Dig it up in the woods ? ” 

The three shook their heads. 

“You don’t? Well, where do you get it? Say, I 
don’t wholly like the looks of this, though I s’pose 
it’s none of my business.” 

Suddenly there was a flash of nickel in the light 
of the platform lamp. Hardy, the policeman, stood 
beside the four men, his revolver in his hand. Be- 
hind him were the three Scouts. 

“ Neither do I like the looks of it I ” he said. 
“ That’s why these three are under arrest.” 

The three thieves jumped at the sight of him, and 
one of them, with a yell, made a dash for liberty. 
The station agent whipped a gun out of his hip 
pocket like a flash, but he didn’t need it. Peanut 


THE ROUND UP 


209 


and Old Hundred had thrown themselves at the 
man’s knees with a football tackle, and brought him 
crashing down. Before he could even struggle 
around to hit at them, the station agent stood over 
him, with the revolver barrel gleaming, while Hardy 
covered the other two. 

The policeman quickly clapped handcuffs on all 
three. Then he demanded if there were motors to 
be had. The station agent telephoned to the village 
for two cars, which quickly came. The boys, with 
their wheels, were put into one, the prisoners, with 
Hardy, got into the other. In half an hour they 
pulled up in front of the Southmead lockup, and five 
minutes later Mr. Rogers, Art, Pete, Albert, Skinny 
and Cop had arrived on the scene. Hardy took 
down the names and addresses of the men, who 
could barely speak English. As Art had predicted 
from the first, they were mill hands from Bentford. 

Before the questioning was over, a crowd of peo- 
ple had gathered outside the lockup, and when the 
policeman and the boys came out, a chorus of voices 
demanded to know all about it. 

‘‘ Don’t ask me, ask those Scouts. They really 
did the job,” said Hardy. “I take off my hat 
to ’em.” 

“ Well, ask me to-morrow, then,” said Peanut. “ I’m 

going home to get some supper — and then ” 

Then what?” somebody asked. 


210 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

“ Then I got to write it up for the paper,” Peanut 
answered. 

He tried to speak calmly, but he couldn’t. All day 
he had been thinking what a story it would make — 
thinking, and not saying a word, even to Mr. Rogers. 
Now the time had come, the thieves had been caught 
and arrested, the story was ripe. It was his chance 
— a real, front page story ! 

He leaped on his wheel, and dashed for home. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Peanut Writes His First Story 
S soon as he reached his house, Peanut cried 



XX out for supper — ‘‘ With coffee, Ma, and make 
it strong ! I got to keep awake ! ” While he ate, 
he told his family the adventures of the day, and as 
soon as he had finished the meal, he retired to his 
room, with a pen and plenty of paper, and sat down 
to write his story for the Herald, 

First he stacked up the paper in front of him. 
Then he opened his ink-well and took a good look 
at the pen to see if it was all right. Then he wrote 
his name at the top of the first sheet. Then — he 
scratched his head. How was he going to begin ? 
He got up and went down-stairs, hunting out a copy 
of a New York paper. He looked through that till 
he found a story about some men who had been ar- 
rested for burglary. It began, “ Yesterday afternoon, 

two men, giving their names as ” 

Here Peanut threw down the paper in disgust. 
He had forgotten all about the names of his three 
thieves 1 Hardy, the officer, had taken them down, 
but Peanut, in his excitement, had forgotten all about 
recording them in his note-book I 


212 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“ Gee, I’m a swell reporter, / am,” he muttered, 
angrily, jumping up again, and rushing for his wheel. 

He rode back to the village, which was quiet now. 
The drug stores were just closing. But he found 
Hardy, who was really a night policeman, for in 
the quiet little town of Southmead no officer was 
kept on patrol in the daytime. Hardy took him 
over to the station house, and let him copy the 
names down from the official report. 

“ I shall take ’em over to the court in Hampton 
Tuesday, by the way,” said he. “ You boys will all 
have to go along as witnesses. Nine o’clock car. 
Get your Scouts there, won’t you ? ” 

Peanut hurried back to his house, and began 
again. 

“ Yesterday evening ” (he began it “ yesterday ” 
because the report would not be printed till Monday) 

“three men giving their names as , , 

,” [we cannot repeat the names in this book, 

because it wouldn’t be fair to the men, who have 
since become honest citizens] “ and their residence 
as Bentford, where they are employed in the mills, 
were arrested by Policeman Hardy of Southmead, at 
the little railroad station of Twin Falls, for stealing 
ferns from the woods on Bald Face Mountain, owned 
by Mr. Thomas Parsons. They will be taken to the 
court at Hampton on Tuesday morning.” 

Peanut read this over. It seemed prettj^ tame, 


PEANUT WRITES HIS FIRST STORY 213 

but it was the way the New York papers began, 
anyhow. 

Then he stared at his paper. What should he 
write next ? Something about the Scouts, of course ! 
“ This’ll help the whole Scout movement,” he said to 
himself. “ It’ll show folks what we are good for I ’’ 

‘‘ The arrests were made as a result of the work of 
the Wildcat Patrol of the Boy Scouts of Southmead,” 
he continued his story, “ under the direction of Mr. 
L. H. Rogers, Scout Master. Mr. Parsons, the owner 
of the woods, discovered a week ago that somebody 
had been stealing ferns in his woods, pulling a lot 
of them up by the roots. He told the Scouts about 
it, and they went out and camped on the mountain 
last Monday, but didn’t catch anybody. 

“ Then they decided that the picking was prob- 
ably done on a Sunday, so last Saturday night a 
party of eight, including Mr. Rogers, the Scout 
Master, and two assistant Scout Masters, went again 
and camped on the mountain. In the evening they 
stalked up to a hut where they suspected the pickers 
were spending the night, and saw them there. Then 
before sunrise Sunday, they divided into parties to 
patrol the whole east side of the mountain so nobody 
could escape, and shadowed the pickers all day.” 

Here Peanut paused, and went back over what he 
had written. 

“ I'd like to put in Art’s name,” he said to him- 


214 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


self, “but if I did that, Fd have to put in mine. 
Don’t like that. Looks as if I was blowing my own 
horn.” 

He finally decided that he’d rather leave Art’s 
name out than look as if he were trying to get his 
own name into print, and went on with his story. 

It was midnight when he had it finished. Every- 
body had gone to bed. He couldn’t show it to Mr. 
Rogers, of course. But he wasn’t sorry for that. 
He wanted to write this story all himself, to see if 
he could do it well enough to get it printed. Put- 
ting the sheets into a big envelope, he addressed it 
and once more rode down to the village, to drop it ^ 
in the post-office box so it would catch the early 
morning train. The village was quite dark now. 
Not a soul was about. Peanut rode home, and 
crept to bed as quietly as he could so as not to 
wake any of his family. He was so sleepy that he 
almost dropped asleep taking off his shoes. But he 
managed to get in between the sheets before his eyes 
quite closed. 

The next morning his mother did not wake him 
for breakfast, and when he opened his eyes and 
looked at his clock, he was astounded to see that it 
was after nine ! 

“ Gee whiz I ” said he, landing on the rug four 
feet from his bed. 

Down-stairs he found a message waiting from Mr, 


PEANUT WRITES HIS FIRST STORY 215 

Rogers, to come over to the studio at ten o’clock. 
When he got there, Mr. Parsons and the boys who 
had been on the expedition the day before were al- 
ready on hand. 

The man shook hands with them all around. 

“ I did you boys a grave injustice a week ago,” 
he said. “ I thought at first you were the ones that 
rooted up my ferns. You know, we grown-up fel- 
lows who’ve forgotten that we were once boys, too, 
usually do blame the youngsters when there is mis- 
chief done. But I guess Boy Scouts learn to keep 
out of mischief, and I owe you all an apology, and 
the heartiest thanks and congratulations for the fine 
work you did yesterday.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Peanut, speaking for the 
rest. “ Scouts always try to be helpful.” 

“ Well, you’ve been helpful not only to me, but 
to everybody that owns woods or loves woods,” 
said the man. “ Catching these men has not only 
saved my ferns, but it has saved a lot of ferns in 
other woods around here, for when the story is 
printed it will warn other owners to look out for 
fern thieves. Now, boys, I want to make some 
kind of a present to you, to show my gratitude.” 

“ Oh, no I ” said Peanut. “ We don’t take any 
presents for doing a good turn. That’s the Scout 
law.” 

“ I don’t mean money,” Mr. Parsons replied, “ I 


2I6 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


wouldn’t dream of offering to pay you for what you’ve 
done, any more than I’d dream of asking you to pay 
me for the use of my woods for your huts. We are 
just helping each other. But I want to give you 
something as a souvenir of this occasion, so you’ll 
all remember it longer. Couldn’t I give you a flag 
for your club-house, or something like that ? ” 

“ A patrol banner I ” whispered Jimmy. 

** Well, sir,” said Peanut, “ a patrol banner would 
be very nice. We need one. A pennant of white, 
with the head of a wildcat on it, and the words, 
‘ Southmead Troop, Boy Scouts of America.’ I 
guess we could accept that, couldn’t we, Mr. Rogers?” 

I guess you could,” the Scout Master answered. 
“ I think it would be fine.” 

** You shall have it ! ” said Mr. Parsons. 

“ And now, fellows,” said Peanut, turning to the 
Scouts, “ what do you say if we make Mr. Parsons 
an honorary member of our patrol ? He’s let us use 
his woods. Guess he’s done more for us than most 
people would. Think of the fun we’ve had in those 
woods ! ” 

** You bet I ” 

I move Mr. Parsons be an honorary member.” 

“ Second the motion.” 

“ Three cheers for Mr. Parsons ! ” 

** Those in favor ? ” said Peanut. 

There was a chorus of “ Ayes 1 ” 


PEANUT WRITES HIS FIRST STORY 217 

“ It’s a vote 1 ” said Peanut. 

“ Don’t I have to ride a goat ? ” Mr. Parsons 
asked. 

“I guess not,” Peanut laughed. “You’re an 
honorary.” 

“ Make him do setting up exercises,” said Cop, 
whereat everybody laughed. 

The Hampton Herald reached Southmead at three- 
thirty in the afternoon. Peanut was so excited that he 
could hardly eat any luncheon and long before train 
time he was at the drug store, where the papers were 
sold, waiting. He snatched a copy as soon as the 
clerk undid the bundle, and retired into a corner of 
the store to look at it. He didn’t, somehow, want 
anybody near him when he read his first big story 
in print. He felt hot and then cold all over. 

There was his story, on the front page I It had a 
big head-line over it, too. 

Boy Scouts Catch Thieves 


Three Fern Pickers Arrested in South- 
mead Through Efforts of Local 
Troop. 

Were Stealing on Estate of Thomas Parsons, 

Peanut went hot when he saw this heading. He 
felt pin pricks of pride up and down his spine. 


2I8 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Then he began to read what he had written, 
underneath the head-lines — and went cold instead. 
It wasn't what he had written. Instead of begin- 
ning as he had begun, with the names of the 
thieves, the story in the paper began quite differ- 
ently. 

‘‘ Why employ the Pinkertons, or call in Will- 
iam J. Burns ? ’’ it began. ‘‘ Down in Southmead 
they have a troop of Boy Scouts who combine the 
acuteness of Sherlock Holmes with the woodcraft of 
the Mohawk Indians, and last Saturday they went 
out on the war-path on Bald Face Mountain, and by 
last evening had succeeded in rounding up three fern 
pickers who have been devastating the woods there, 
and will appear against them in the local court to- 
morrow.^^ 

Peanut felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t alone be- 
cause his story had been changed ; but also because 
this opening sentence seemed to him a little too flat- 
tering, almost as if the writer was poking a bit of fun 
at the Scouts. 

“ Anyhow, it’s rubbing it in ! ” he muttered. 

Then he read on. The rest of the story was much 
more as he had written it, only there was a lot put in 
about Mr. Parsons, and a lot more about Mr. Rogers, 
with a list of some of his pictures. The whole story 
took up a column. Peanut folded the paper and 
went to the Scout Master’s house. 


PEANUT WRITES HIS FIRST STORY 219 

Mr. Rogers read it carefully, and listened to Pea- 
nut’s account of how he had first written it. 

“ Well,” said he, “ it’s really easy to understand 
why they changed your introduction. It all comes 
down to the question of what /lewsis. News is what 
interests the readers of a paper. The things that in-, 
terest them most are the newsiest, and get on the 
front page. Now, it isn’t very unusual for thieves to 
get arrested, but it is unusual for a troop of Boy 
Scouts to make the capture. The public would 
hardly glance at a mere story of a policeman arrest- 
ing some fern pickers. But if they saw that a lot of 
boys played Sherlock Holmes and did the trick, 
they’d sit up and take notice. That’s why the editpr 
changed your story.” 

I can see that now,” Peanut replied. “Still, 
sounds kind of as if he was guying us a bit — all that 
Sherlock Holmes stuff.” 

Mr. Rogers smiled. “ Your troop are pretty young 
boys, you know,” said he, “ and the editor is a grown 
man. Grown-ups have a way of patronizing boys 
a bit. On the whole, I think they altered your 
story remarkably little, for a first story. You ought 
to feel flattered.” 

“ Well, if you say so. Pm all puffed up I ” Peanut 
laughed, and ran home to show the paper to his 
mother. 


CHAPTER XIX 


The Scouts Take a Trip to Court and Learn 
How Hard it is to be a Judge 

HE next day all the Scouts who had taken part 



X in the expedition, with Mr. Rogers, were taken 
to Hampton with Mr. Parsons, in his two automo- 
biles. It was a new adventure to appear in court. 
In fact, none of them had ever been in a court before. 
The case was heard at eleven o^ clock. They filed into 
the court room very solemnly. The three prisoners 
sat at one side, facing the judge behind his bench. 
Hardy and a court officer stood beside them. There 
were two or three reporters in the room, and a 
young lawyer from Bentford, who had come up to 
defend the thieves, and their priest from Bentford, 
and the wife and two little children of one of the 
men. The wife was weeping. The two little chil- 
dren clung to her skirts, and looked like scared, 
timid little birds. 

Hardy was the first witness. He told of making 
the arrest. Then Mr. Rogers was sworn in, and he 
told what had happened, and identified the prisoners 
as the three men they had watched pick ferns. The 


220 


A TRIP TO COURT 


221 


prosecuting attorney then called Peanut, who, with 
his knees trembling, took the witness chair, told his 
name and age, swore t® tell the truth, the whole truth 
and nothing but the truth, and then, like Mr. Rogers, 
was asked to tell what had happened, and to identify 
the prisoners. 

Art was sworn in next, and went through the same 
proceeding. 

The judge then spoke. “You needn’t call any 
more witnesses,” he said to the county’s attorney; 
“ that is sufficient.” 

“ Oh, dear, I wanted to testify ! ” whispered Jimmy. 

“ Me, too,” said Cop. 

The lawyer for the defense then had his turn. He 
called the priest, who testified to the ignorance of 
these foreigners regarding American laws, and told 
of their needy families dependent on them. 

“ Ignorance of the law is not an excuse for violat- 
ing it,” said the judge, severely, “ and the fact that 
these men hid their baskets when they heard the wit- 
nesses coming shows that they knew they were doing 
wrong.” 

But that did not solve the problem of the wives 
and children, and though the men had entered a plea 
of guilty, their lawyer pleaded for clemency on the 
grounds of the suffering which would follow if the 
men had to go to jail for long terms. As he talked, 
the wife in court could not restrain her weeping, and 


222 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

the two little ragged children clung to her, and began 
to cry, also. 

This was too much for Jimmy. He, also, began 
to get misty around the eyes, and presently two 
large tears ran out and down his cheeks. He swal- 
lowed them, with a gulp. 

“ Gosh, I hope the judge lets ’em go this time I ” 
he whispered. 

“Almost hope so myself,” said Peanut. “It’s 
pretty tough on their families.” 

Mr. Parsons, who was sitting with the boys, over- 
heard these remarks, and spoke to the judge himself, 

“ The chief depredations were committed on my 
land,” he said, “and these boys were instrumental 
in making the capture. They appear to be greatly 
touched by the misery a long sentence would bring 
to the families of the accused. If your honor should 
see fit, with due regard to a just administration of 
the law, to extend some clemency on this occasion, I 
should be satisfied and I think the effect on these 
young citizens-to-be might be good.” 

“ Some speech I ” whispered Art to Peanut. 

The judge looked sharply at the Scouts. 

“ Boys,” said he, “ these three men have broken the 
laws of the Commonwealth. They have committed 
a grave offense. I can send them to jail. If I do 
that, their families will suffer, and they will be 
branded with the jail mark thereafter. If I don’t 


A TRIP TO COURT 


223 


do it, it may encourage other men to steal. I want 
you to realize the predicament a judge is sometimes 
in.” 

He spoke very gravely, and the Scouts were sober. 
Then he reflected silently for some moments, and 
finally sentenced the three men to pay a fine of fifty 
dollars each, which was a great deal of money for 
them, and freed them in the parole of their priest. 

This was the last case for the morning session, 
and the judge called the Scouts into his chamber, 
where he shook hands with them all. 

“ Fm — Fm glad you let ’em go I ” said little 
Jimmy. ‘‘ I — I ’most cried when I saw the two 
kids.” 

“You did cry, Jimmy I” said Cop. 

“ A judge often wants to cry,” the judge said, 
“but up on his bench he can’t. I hope you boys 
will take away this lesson — that when you do a 
wrong thing, it isn’t you alone who suffer, but 
innocent people besides. When those . men stole, 
they ran the risk of making their innocent children 
the children of jail birds, and taking the bread out 
of their mouths, instead of putting it in. Will you 
remember that, boys?” 

“ Yes, sir,” they answered. 

The judge patted Jimmy on the head as the Scouts 
filed out. 

“ You wouldn’t make a very good judge,” said he. 


224 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


“You’re too tender-hearted. But I like tender- 
hearted boys. Don’t you ever be ashamed of cry- 
ing when you see misery or unhappiness.’* 

He patted his head once more, and once more 
Jimmy’s eyes were wet, as he left the chamber. 

“ Well,” said Mr. Parsons, as they drove home, 
“ let’s hope those men got their lesson, and will be- 
have now.” 

“ Oh, gosh I ” cried Cop, “ we never got back 
what they swiped from the hut I ” 

“I guess we don’t want those two old blankets 
back, after they’ve used ’em,” laughed Peanut. 

“ The judge ought to have fined ’em a bath,” said 
Art. “ That would have been an awful punishment 
for them.” 

“ Let’s go swimming this after’ I ” exclaimed 
Jimmy, and everybody laughed. 


CHAPTER XX 


Peanut Becomes a Volunteer 

P EANUT got five dollars for his story of the cap- 
ture of the fern pickers, and at the same time 
he was made regular Southmead correspondent of 
the Hampton Herald, for Joe Perkins left town that 
week to go to his new job. It was now Peanut’s 
task every day to gather local items and send them 
up on the evening train, for use the next day. If 
anything of interest happened the next morning, or 
if there was something in the evening which had to 
be ‘‘ covered,” he telephoned the news before noon, 
and a reporter in the Hej'ald office wrote it out and 
put it in the paper. The more items Peanut got 
printed, the more money he made, for he was paid 
‘‘ on space,” as they say in newspaper offices — that 
is, he got so much a column. 

Southmead was a small town, and it wasn’t once a 
year that a good story like the fern robbery “ broke 
loose ” (again to use a newspaper phrase). Most of 
the items Peanut gathered were records of who was 
visiting in town, or who was sick, or what meetings 
were going to be held. They were just paragraphs, 
225 


226 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


and if he could get enough to fill a quarter of a 
column a day he was lucky. As he was paid $5 a 
column and there were six issues of the paper a 
week, it is easy to see that his wages were some* 
where between $5 and $7.50 each Saturday night, 
when the check came. That made just about the 
same a month as the Scout Council was paying him. 

But Peanut, living at home with his parents, found 
$50 a month a good deal of money. He paid some 
board, so he would not be a drag upon his family, he 
bought his own clothes, and he began to put a dollar 
each week into the savings bank. He already had 
his two dollars in the bank, deposited when he be- 
came a first class Scout, and starting wdth this as a 
beginning, he began to see the fund mounting — 
slowly, to be sure, but still growing — money that 
was his, that he had earned, and that some day he 
could use to help him get his start as a real news- 
paper man. 

Between gathering and writing his items for the 
Heraldy coaching the Brave Babies^ baseball team, 
and holding at least one Scout meeting and taking 
one hike a week, he was kept pretty busy. The 
Wildcats were not yet second class Scouts, in spite 
of all their adventures, so the first thing he did next 
was to get Mr. Rogers and one or two members of 
the Scout Council to the Scout House, and hold the 
second class tests. 


PEANUT BECOMES A VOLUNTEER 227 

These tests weren’t really much more than a for- 
mality, for all the Wildcats had done the tracking 
and Scout pace already, and Mr. Rogers could testify 
to their ability to use knives and hatchets. They all 
built their fires, however, for the Council to see, 
and cooked the meat and potatoes without ordinary 
kitchen utensils, and demonstrated elementary first 
aid, and signaling. 

In another week they all received their second 
class badges. 

But in another week, too, school was about to 
open again, for September had come, and Peanut’s 
hopes of making the patrol first class Scouts before 
vacation was over were dashed. 

More than that. Art was going away to the for- 
estry school, Lou was going to the Agricultural 
College, Rob to medical school, and Frank to study 
business. Peanut was bereft of his best friends, and 
his helpers in the Scout work. He would miss Art 
especially, for Art was not only his most intimate 
chum, but the real woodsman of the Scout troop. 

The Wildcats were all second class Scouts now, 
and most of them were nearly ready to take their 
first class tests. A little more work in advanced first 
aid, which Dr. Henderson could teach, some practice 
in judging weight, height, size, etc., and they could 
take the tests. Peanut decided to work for that end. 
Now that school had begun, and Art wasn’t here to 


228 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


help him, he was rather at a loss how to keep the 
boys interested. It was easy with Jimmy, but some 
of the others began to show signs of flagging attend- 
ance at the Scout meetings. 

This time the tests were made one by one. On 
the first Saturday after school began they all went to 
the swimming hole, and swam fifty yards. On the 
second Saturday they hiked out on a wide field and 
all but Cop and Pete were able to signal sixteen 
words a minute. The other Scouts laughed at the 
two who failed so much that the following week Cop 
and Pete, who had practiced in the meantime, also 
passed. 

A week or two later, divided into teams of two, 
the patrol made trips of seven miles from the village, 
and return, writing out a description and drawing a 
rough road map. 

Meantime Dr. Henderson was giving instruction 
one evening a week in advanced first aid, and every 
time the patrol was out in the woods. Peanut made 
everybody practice in judging the height of trees, 
the width of pastures, and so on. The way the trees 
was measured was as follows. A small mirror would 
be placed on the ground, at a point where a Scout 
could stand perfectly erect, and, looking down into 
the mirror, could just see the tip-top of the tree. 
Then, with a tape, the others would measure the dis- 
tances from the trunk of the tree to the mirror, from 


PEANUT BECOMES A VOLUNTEER 229 


the mirror to the Scout’s feet, and from the ground 
to his eyes. This gave the following ratio, if, say, 
the mirror was eighty feet from the trunk, four feet 
from the Scout’s feet, and his eyes were five feet 
from the ground : — 

5 : 4 : : X : 80 

That is, the tree would be a hundred feet high. 

Once, by the bank of a small river, the boys tried 
an interesting experiment. First they guessed at the 
width, and then at the height of a tree on the bank, 
and after estimating the width at thirty feet and the 
tree at thirty-five, cut it down to see if it would span 
across for a bridge. It fell at least eight feet short ! 

Peanut laughed. “ There’s nothing fools you so 
much as the width of a stream of water,” he said. 

That’s because you see so much length to the river 
that it don’t — doesn’t — look wide, I suppose. But 
there’s a way to measure rivers. It tells in the Scout 
Manual. Let’s try it.” 

They tried both the methods of triangulation 
described in the Manual, and Peanut also tried to 
tell them why these methods gave the result — but he 
found that a good deal harder than he wished it 
were. 

“ Gee, I guess I didn’t study geometry as care- 
fully as I ought to have ! ” he thought to himself. 

Thus the tests went on, till all the Wildcats had 
passed every test except that of bringing in a recruit 


230 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


drilled as a tenderfoot. In spite of everything that 
Peanut could do, in spite of all his urging, half the 
patrol either couldn’t or wouldn’t enlist a smaller 
boy and drill him as a tenderfoot. 

“Aw, they don’t wanter come into the Scouts 
now 1 ” said Cop. “ I tried three or four. They’ll 
come next summer, all right, when we’re goin’ 
campin’, or something. But they think there’s 
nothin’ doin’ in the winter.” 

“ You mean you’re too lazy to get out and rustle 
’em in ! ” Peanut exclaimed, angrily. 

“No, I ain’t too lazy, either ! ” said Cop. “ Pete’s 
tried, an’ he’ll tell you the same thing.” 

“ Well, / got a recruit,” cried Jimmy. “ And I 
want to be a first class Scout. I think it’s mean we 
can’t get eight recruits, right now, so’s we could get 
our badges.” 

“ So do I, Jimmy,” Peanut answered. “ But we 
don’t want to enroll half a patrol, or have half the 
Wildcats first class, and half second. I guess we’ll 
have to start something to show ’em that there is 
something doing in the winter.” 

“ Wish you would,” said Cop. “ Gee, I’m tired of 
estimating distances and things like that It’s too 
much like arithmetic for me.” 

“You get tired easy. Cop,” the young Scout 
Master exclaimed, in disgust. 

The next day Peanut made a mysterious trip to 


PEANUT BECOMES A VOLUNTEER 231 

Hampton, to the Herald office, and a day later he 
called on Mr. Rogers. 

“ I’m not going to take any more money for being 
assistant Scout Master,” he announced abruptly. 

Mr. Rogers looked surprised. “Why not?” he 
asked. “ Have you found a gold mine, or has your 
rich uncle in Brazil died and left you a coffee planta- 
tion?” 

Peanut laughed. “ Gee, I wish I had an uncle in 
Brazil,” he said. “ I’d like to take a trip up the 
Amazon I ” 

Then he grew sober again. “ No, sir,” he went 
on, “I’m not going to take any more money. I’m 
a frost as a Scout Master, and it ain’t — isn’t — fair.” 

“ What do you mean, you’re a frost? ” Mr. Rogers 
asked. “ The Council are very much pleased with 
your work.” 

“ Well, it went all right in summer,” the boy re- 
plied, “ but I’m stuck now for fair. I’ve got all the 
patrol through their first class tests, all ’cept bring- 
ing in a tenderfoot drilled by themselves. Some of 
’em — ^Jimmy Gerson, and Skinny and Old Hundred 
— have got boys ready, but the rest haven’t. They 
say they can’t get the kids to come in, at this time 
of year. Guess it’s really because they aren’t inter- 
ested enough to go after ’em, though ; and if they’re 
not interested, that’s my fault. I haven’t made 
Scouting attractive enough — or something.” 


232 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


‘‘The hardest part of Scout work, Peanut, is al- 
ways to get the boys to pass this particular first 
class test,’^ said Mr. Rogers. “ I always found it so, 
myself. Boys, at a certain age, don’t seem to feel 
much interested in younger boys. They don’t try 
to help the younger ones. They have to grow up 
to your age before they begin to feel this big brother 
interest. You cheer up. Try to invent some good, 
exciting sports for winter, and I guess things will 
come out all right. The Council is satisfied.” 

“ Well, Pm not satisfied,” Peanut declared, “ and 
I’m not going to take any more money. I never 
did want to take it, anyhow. It never seemed 
right.” 

“ But paid Scout Masters are quite within the 
Scout rules,” Mr. Rogers urged. “ Besides, how 
will you pay your board at home, and buy your 
winter clothes ? ” 

“ Ha I ” Peanut cried proudly. “ I’ve fixed that I 
I went to the Herald office yesterday and got the 
West Bentford correspondent job I The man over 
there has left. I’ll go over there every morning on 
the trolley, and get items, and that’ll double my 
pay from the Herald. So I won’t need the Scout 
money. Gee I I’ll feel better to be a volunteer 
leader, like you ! ” 

“You really will feel better? You want to do the 
work for nothing ? ” 


PEANUT BECOMES A VOLUNTEER 233 

“ You bet I do I ’’ Peanut replied. 

** Well/’ said the Scout Master, “ then you shall, 
and you’ve earned the gratitude and respect of the 
Council.” 

“ And, believe me, there’s going to be something 
doing this winter 1 ” Peanut cried, as he went out. 

Mr. Rogers walked over to the house of one of the 
Council, and told him about it. 

“ The boy wants to earn his living as other people 
do, by regular work, and be a volunteer Scout 
Master. He wants to feel he’s giving himself to the 
Scout work, to the younger boys. That’s what he 
understands by ‘ A Scout is loyal.’ Of course, we 
must let him. He’s winning something more pre- 
cious than money — self-respect and a sense of honor 
and free service.” 

‘‘ Well,” said the Council member, “ that boy’s 
what I call a real gentleman.” 

“ I guess you’re right,” Mr. Rogers replied. 


CHAPTER XXI 


The Wildcats Make Skis 

P EANUT had an idea. Before he sprang it, he 
wanted to find out if it was practical. The 
idea was to equip the whole Wildcat Patrol with 
skis, of their own manufacture, build a ski jump, 
and hold jumping contests. Skis were practically 
unknown in Southmead. A good many people, in- 
cluding Art and Peanut himself, had snow-shoes. 
Snow-shoes had been worn by the Indians, before a 
white man ever came to Southmead. But all you 
can do on snow-shoes is to walk. They are merely 
utilitarian. (That is the word Peanut used to him- 
self as he was planning out his scheme. He had 
been reading more, and studying English harder 
since he left school than he ever did in it !) But, on 
skis, you can coast and jump as well as walk on the 
level. Peanut had seen a motion picture of ski jump- 
ing in Norway, and it had given him his idea. 

The first thing to do wa§ to get a pair of skis, to 
see how they are made. And the young Scout 
Master decided the best way to do that was to buy 
a pair. He wrote at once to a sporting goods house 
234 


THE WILDCATS MAKE SKIS 


235 


to find out the price. They sent him back a cata- 
logue, and inquired how long he wanted his pair 
to be. 

Alas I Peanut had no idea how long they ought 
to be, so he had to consult Mr. Rogers, after all. 

But Mr. Rogers had never done any skiing, either, 
and didn’t know. 

“ There must be some book that tells,” he said. 
“ I’ll send off and see, and then we’ll know where 
we’re at.” 

In two or three days, a book came from New 
York — “How to Ski,” it was called. It was written 
by an Englishman who had evidently skied in the 
Alps, and it was full of pictures of men on skis 
going oyer what looked like precipices, and taking 
jumps which seemed hundreds of feet long. (As a 
matter of fact, they were over a hundred. The 
world’s record is 192 feet.) 

“ Golly I ” said Peanut, as he looked, gasping. 
“And see all these diagrams of things you do on 
skis — the Telemark stem, the Christiania turn — 
whew ! I didn’t know there was so much to skiing. 
Why on snow-shoes, you just step out and walk.” 

They learned from the book that a ski should be 
long enough so that when you stand it on end, you 
can just reach up and touch the other end with the 
tips of your fingers. With this direction. Peanut 
measured the height to which he could reach with 


236 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


his finger tips, and ordered a pair of skis, paying for 
them with five dollars of the money he had saved. 

“ I’m going to get a good pair,” he said. “ Might 
as well, while I am about it.” 

“It always pays to have anything good which 
you’ve got to trust your neck to,” Mr. Rogers 
laughed. 

As soon as the skis came. Peanut took them to the 
instructor in manual training at the school, and the 
two examined them together. 

“ Perfectly easy to make,” said the instructor. 
“ Some good, clean ash lumber, well seasoned, that’s 
all we need.” 

“ But how’ll we turn the front ends up ? ” 

“Steam ’em,” said the instructor. “Your Scouts 
are in the freshman class of the high school now, 
aren’t they ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Well, they’re not in my courses any more. Only 
the grammar grades have manual training. But I’ll 
be perfectly willing to stay after school a few nights 
and help ’em work here, if you fellows will pay for 
the lumber. Of course, we can’t ask the town to do 
that.” 

“ Of course not,” said Peanut. “ How much will 
it cost ? ” 

“Not enough to break anybody, I guess. Less 
than a dollar a pair.” 


THE WILDCATS MAKE SKIS 


237 

Peanut now took his skis and the book to a Scout 
meeting. It was already fast getting too late for 
football. Though Thanksgiving had not yet come, 
the ground here in the mountains was now freezing 
almost nightly. The Scouts were glad of some fresh 
interest, and as most of them had seen pictures of 
ski jumping, they were enthusiastic over the idea. 
The lumber was ordered, and with Peanut’s skis for 
a model, everybody set to work. 

First the boards were sawed into strips the width 
of the skis (about 2^ inches in the narrowest part, 
under the foot, increasing to 3^ inches at the bend, 
and 3 inches at the heel. Of course, each pair 
was cut to the proper length for the boy who was to 
use them. Then they were planed down till they 
were i % inches thick under the foot, and much thin- 
ner at front and back (about of an inch), and bal- 
anced to tip forward the least bit, when suspended 
by a string at the point where the foot strap was to 
be. Then slits were cut through under the ball of the 
foot for the straps, and a groove planed on the bottom 
to hold the snow (like the keel of a boat, in reverse). 
Finally, the front ends were steamed, and then, after 
they were properly bent up, the two skis were vised 
together, back to back, with blocks under the points 
so that the bend would “ set,” and a i ^ inch block 
under the feet, to give them a spring up when used. 

They were left so for two or three days, and then 


238 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


taken down, sandpapered smooth, varnished well, 
the bottoms waxed, and a piece of carriage floor rub- 
ber put under each foot. The boys made their har- 
nesses to hold the skis on the foot out of pieces of 
harness and skate straps. Rake handles, with a 
piece of stiff leather the size and shape of a saucer 
fastened six inches from the end to keep the points 
from going into the snow too deep, were improvised 
ski poles. 

“ And now I ’’ cried Peanut, “ all we need is a good, 
deep snow I ” 

But the good, deep snow didn’t come till after 
Christmas. There were a few flurries, and Cop and 
Pete almost spoiled their skis by going out on them 
before the snow was deep enough and so scratching 
the bottoms with gravel that they had to be sand- 
papered down again. Two days after Christmas, 
however, just as the winter holiday vacation was 
started, a snow-storm set in one afternoon, and lasted 
all night, and all of the next day. There were two 
feet of drifted snow over the fields and mountains 
when the boys ploughed their way to the Scout House 
that evening. 

“ Hooray ! ” cried Peanut. Be at Cole’s Hill after 
breakfast to-morrow ! ” 

The next morning Peanut could hardly wait long 
enough to eat his breakfast. He was quite as eager 
to try his skis as any of the boys were. For days 


THE WILDCATS MAKE SKIS 


239 


before he had been poring over the pages of “ How 
to Ski,” and deciding what he would try to master 
first. He had made up his mind to begin with snow 
ploughing, and not to try the other things till both 
he and the Wildcats could do this first brake — for 
snow ploughing on skis is merely one method of 
braking, or reducing speed, when coasting down- 
hill. 

As soon as breakfast was over, he rushed to the 
telephone and called up the West Bentford drug 
store, to see if there were any additional items for the 
Herald^\iViXx\^A to the Southmead stores to pick up 
any news that ought to go in that day, telephoned 
to the Herald^ and then, rushing back home, put on 
an extra pair of heavy socks under his high storm 
boots, fastened his skis securely on his feet, and 
started out for Cole's Hill, which was a long pasture 
slope just outside of the village, where most of the 
coasting and tobogganing was done. 


CHAPTER XXII 


The Wildcats Try Their Skis 
HE skis felt very unwieldy and clumsy on his 



i feet as he shuffled along. He had to cross the 
ploughed sidewalk and the road presently, and here 
was a problem. First he jammed one toe into the 
pile thrown up by the plough and nearly fell. Then 
he got one ski crossed on top of the other, and in 
trying to lift the under foot, did tip himself over, into 
three feet of snow. 

He started to spring to his feet — and found him- 
self deeper in the snow than ever. 

“ Hello,” said he. “ First thing you’ve got to 
learn is how to get up, I guess I ” 

Then he remembered what the book had said, lay 
on his side, brought both feet parallel, up under him 
as close as he could, and rolled over upon them. 
Then he stood up without any trouble. 

When he reached the side of the main road, he 
saw the marks of three or four other pairs of skis. 

“ Can’t hide these tracks ! ” he thought, hurrying 
on. It was getting easier now. He had caught the 
long, gliding motion, and no longer tried to lift his 
feet, as you do in walking. 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 241 

When he got to Cole’s Hill, he found all the patrol 
there ahead of him. Most of them were standing 
still at the top of the hill, but Old Hundred and 
Jimmy, their skis on their shoulders, were walking 
back up, knee deep in snow. 

** Hi I ” Peanut called, “ what you taking your skis 
off for?” 

“ Well, let’s see you walk up without ! ” Old Hun- 
dred retorted. 

“ Ho, that's easy,” said Peanut. ** Tells how to do 
that in the book, first thing. You have to go criss- 
cross — tack, like a ship.” 

Setting his skis not straight up the hill, but pointed 
only slightly up, he began to climb on the transverse. 
Of course, while this took him up-hill, it also took 
him farther and farther to one side. Presently, he 
came to the fence. 

“Now, what you going to do?” Old Hundred 
shouted to him. 

“ Turn around,” said Peanut, “ if I can remember 
how the book said to do it. The kick-around, it’s 
called.” 

Standing with his weight on the foot down slope, 
he let the other slide far back, and then kicked for- 
ward, endeavoring to kick the ski straight up till the 
rear end rested in the snow. Then he would set it 
around, pointed the other way, drag the other ski 
around after it, and proceed on his way up the hill. 


242 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


The eight boys on top were watching him. The 
first try sent him sprawling backward into the snow ! 

As he climbed to his feet again, he heard the Wild- 
cats laughing. 

‘‘ Is that in the book ? ” Old Hundred called. 

But Peanut grinned good-naturedly, and tried 
again. This time he didn’t fall, but he didn’t kick 
the ski high enough to let the rear end catch in the 
snow. On the third trial he succeeded, and was soon 
on his way up in the opposite direction. One more 
kick-around, with the other foot, brought him to the 
top. 

“ Guess that’s about the first thing to practice,” he 
said. “ Skis aren’t much use if you have to take 
’em off every time you come to a hill.” 

“ Aw, let’s slide ! ” cried Jimmy. ** That’s the fun I 
Gee, me ’n’ Old Hundred’s the only ones who’ve got 
down yet without spilling. Cop an’ Pete an’ Skinny 
ain’t been down at all. They’re scared stiff I ” 

I ain’t either scared ! ” said Cop. “ But my skis 
are too slippery.” 

The rest set up a shout at this. 

“ Well, everybody down ! ” cried Peanut. ** You 
can’t hurt yourself in two feet of snow, if you do 
spill. Remember, the book says tp keep one foot a 
little in advance of the other and the skis close to- 
gether. It’s easier, the book says, to run in the 
Telemark position.” 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 243 

“ Oh, you and your book I ” exclaimed Old Hun- 
dred. What’s the Telemark position ?” 

“ Don’t you laugh at the book,” Peanut answered. 
“ I guess the man who wrote it knows more about 
skiing than any of us. The Telemark position is 
this. I’ll show you a picture of it to-night.” 

He thrust one foot as far out ahead as he could, 
and practically kneeled on the other ski. 

“You see, your weight, your center of gravity, is 
lower in this position,” he explained, “ so there’s less 
chance of falling. And, besides, if you do wabble, 
you can always rise a bit and get your weight shifted 
to the other foot — so the book says.” 

“ Never mind the old book — let’s try it I ” cried 
Old Hundred — and started for the edge of the hill, 
Jimmy after him. 

The rest watched them slip out over the edge, 
take the Telemark position, and start flying down. 
Jimmy got safely to the bottom, and waved his arms 
triumphantly as he hit the level and came up to a 
standing position. But half-way down the hill Old 
Hundred wabbled, lurched to the left, and suddenly 
vanished in a cloud of snow and whirling skis. 

“ Not so easy as it looks ! ” Peanut laughed. 

“ Me for the old flexible flyer,” said Cop. 

“ Well, you may be a quitter, but I’m not,” said 
Peanut. “ Who's going down with me ? ” 

Pete and Albert and Spike came forward to the 


244 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


brow with him. As Peanut stood there, the ends 
of his skis pointing over, he had a sudden sinking 
sensation in the pit of his stomach. The hill cer- 
tainly did look steep I But he shoved forward, and 
before he knew what had happened, he was going 
down about a mile a minute — and apparently with 
no control over his feet whatever. He clutched the 
air wildly to keep his balance. He forgot all about 
the Telemark position. He just stood up as well as 
he could — and flew. Suddenly one ski started to 
the right, the other to the left. He tried to bring 
them together again — and the next second he was 
buried in two feet of snow, with the skis pointing at 
the blue sky. 

As he raised his head and shook the snow out of 
his eyes, he saw Pete struggling in the snow not ten 
feet away. 

“ What you doing there, Pete ? he asked. 

“ Got tired, and lay down to rest,” Pete laughed. 

Say, ril do this or bust ! ” 

“ Me, too I Come on back, now, and learn the 
kick-around.” 

“ Say, where's Spike and Albert ? ” Pete suddenly 
asked. “ Thought they were coming, too. Hi, 
look ! They got cold feet an' never followed us I '' 

Jimmy had by this time reached Peanut and Pete. 
He, too, was trying to learn the kick-around, so he 
could climb back without taking off his skis. The 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 245 

three of them kept on, and by dint of several trials, 
got the hang of the kick-around, and reached the 
top of the hill. Old Hundred had taken his skis off. 

“ Come on, Pete,” cried Peanut. “ Never mind 
those poor stiffs. LePs you and me try it again.” 

This time, as he went over the brow. Peanut re- 
membered to go into the Telemark position, and so 
did Pete. Both of them made the run to the bottom 
without falling. Right behind them came Jimmy 
(who had mastered the first principles of balancing 
quicker than anybody else) and Old Hundred. All 
four got to the bottom safely, and Old Hundred also 
tried climbing up with his skis on. 

“ Those other guys’ll never learn, just standing 
on top,” said Jimmy. “ Gee, Cop’s as scared as 
if he was going to jump off the Bald Face cliffs I 
Why don’t they start half-way down the hill for a 
beginning ? ” 

‘‘ That’s a good idea,” the Scout Master replied. 
“ Hi, fellers I Come down half-way, and begin 
where it’s not so steep I ” he called. 

‘‘ How are we going to get there ? ” Cop shouted 
back. 

“ Take the hill on an easy grade sideways,” Peanut 
suggested. 

The five Scouts on top adopted this suggestion. 
They pointed their skis off to one side, and only 
slightly down grade, and started. 


246 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


But, of course, after they once got under way, 
they began to go down fast enough to make stop- 
ping difficult. All five of them were headed for the 
far side of the pasture, and the four boys climbing 
the hill saw that in about a minute they would either 
run into the pasture fence, or else have to turn. 

Of course, not one of them had the faintest idea 
how to turn. Cop tried to. He lifted one foot to 
set it around, put it down on top of the other ski — 
and vanished into the snow I Spike and Albert next 
attempted about the same thing, with the same re- 
sult. Eddie and Skinny first dragged with their 
poles for brakes, and when they saw that wasn’t 
going to stop them, they simply fell on purpose. 

The four Scouts climbing the hill roared with 
laughter, as the five snow-covered forms emerged 
from the drifts and tried to climb back to their 
feet. Finally Cop gave up the effort, and lying 
back in the snow, kicked up his skis and unbuckled 
the straps. 

“Skiing’s a cinch, isn’t it?” Peanut called out. 
“ Guess you fellers won’t laugh at the book quite so 
much after a while.” 

Meantime, various other boys and girls had come 
to the hill, mostly with toboggans, for the snow was 
too deep for sleds, and the skis attracted great at- 
tention. One little chap, not a Scout, wanted to try 
a pair. 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 247 

** Here, take mine 1 ” said Cop, with a fine air of 
generosity. 

The little fellow put them on, half-way down the 
hill, and slid successfully to the bottom, on the first 
try! 

** I should think that would make you ashamed. 
Cop,” Peanut declared. “ Let a little sixth grade 
tadpole beat you out I ” 

Cop did look rather shamefaced, and demanded his 
skis back again. 

All the Scouts now tried running from a point 
only half-way up the hill, where the grade was not 
so steep, and before the morning was over, all of 
them had so far mastered the art of balance that 
they could negotiate the slide without a spill, and 
about half of them ended up by running the whole 
slope several times. 

“ Now,” said Peanut, as they tramped home on 
the level, over the drifts, we’ve got to begin right 
away learning some of the brakes and turns. You 
fellows who nearly ran into the fence saw how im- 
portant it is to know how to brake or turn. A good 
ski runner would have just turned at the fence and 
kept right on. This afternoon we’ll all try snow 
ploughing.” 

*‘Aw, ain’t we going to build a jump?” asked 
Jimmy. 

”A jump? Say, what do you think we are? I 


248 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


guess jumping is about the hardest thing to do on 
skis. We’ve got to learn plain running first. Wait 
till you can do the Telemark stem, anyhow. I’m 
going to plug it up in the book this noon.” 

“ Oh, there you go with your old book again I ” 
Old Hundred laughed. 

** Laugh if you want,” said Peanut. “ But the 
laugh’ll be on you if you don’t learn some of the 
things in that book.” 

When afternoon came, still more toboggans were 
on the hill, and a crowd gathered to watch the 
Scouts skiing, a dozen boys begging for a chance to 
try the new sport. Cop was not so willing to lend 
his, now that he had begun to lose his timidity about 
using them himself I 

The first brake that the Scouts tried was the snow 
plough. This brake will not stop you completely, 
unless you are going slowly down a gentle incline, 
but it will slow you up. Keeping the points of the 
skis together as you slide, the heels are gradually 
worked wider and wider apart, keeping the weight 
on the inside edge of the runners. In this way, the 
skis form a letter V, like a snow plough, and the 
softer the snow the greater the progress is retarded, 
unless it is so soft that the skis bury, which pushes 
them together and makes ploughing impossible. 

But it is not half so easy to do as it sounds on 
paper. When you first try it, either one ski or the 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 249 

other is almost sure to slide ahead, aad then either 
the skis will cross, spilling you, or you will have to 
straighten the rear ski to conform with the one which 
has slid ahead, and go running down the hill on an 
angle. 

Little Jimmy, who seemed to be a born skier, was 
the first to master the snow plough. He got so that 
he could do it on the lower slope of the hill, where 
all the patrol was practicing, and then, before most 
of the rest had got the hang of it, he was running 
down the entire hill, starting at top speed and com- 
ing into the snow plough position, which sent up a 
spray of snow in front of him. 

One by one the others got the hang of it well 
enough to try the full slope, and by three o’clock 
Peanut decided to try the Telemark stem. 

The Telemark stem is one of the most useful ski 
accomplishments you can possess, for it is a power- 
ful brake which will bring you to a full stop on all 
but the steepest hill, if you need to stop— if, for in- 
stance, you suddenly see a stone or a wall ahead. 

Peanut had been studying the book carefully, and 
he knew theoretically how it ought to be done. You 
drop into the Telemark position, kneeling or almost 
kneeling on one ski, with the other foot far advanced. 
Then keeping all your weight on the rear ski, you 
bring the forward ski around till it is exactly at right 
angles to the other, being very careful to keep the 


250 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


bottom of it flat on the snow, so that it will slip down- 
hill easily and not catch. Then as gradually as you 
wish you throw your weight forward off the rear ski 
upon the forward ski, at the same time edging it 
down till it makes a brake. If you want to stop 
completely, rise nearly to a standing position with 
all the weight thrown hard on the forward ski, which 
will bury itself in the snow and bring you up sharp. 

Jimmy immediately caught on to the theory of 
this stemming brake, and after three or four trials 
he was able to do it, on the lower slopes of the hill. 
The others, even Peanut himself, tried and tried 
without very much success. 

“ How do you get it so easily ? Peanut de- 
manded. 

“ I dunno, I can’t help it,” Jimmy answered. “ I 
just feel in my legs what to do. The trouble with 
you fellers is that you don’t keep your weight all on 
your hind ski till you get the other around square. 
You let some weight stay on the front ski while 
you’re turning it, and that makes you side slip and 
turn — and then you spill. See, this is how it’s 
done.” 

Away he went, sank into the Telemark position, 
brought his right ski round in front, and suddenly 
threw his weight upon it, and brought up short half- 
way down the hill, with a perfect cloud of snow fly- 
ing up in front of him. 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 251 

“ Gee, that’s pretty 1 ” Old Hundred exclaimed, 
“I’m going to do it, if it takes the rest of the 
winter I ” 

The other eight boys kept on trying, and one by 
one, after innumerable spills, they got so they could 
finally stem and even stop, by the Telemark method. 
Meanwhile Jimmy, who by now felt perfect confi- 
dence, was flying down the hill and trying new 
stunts of his own. 

One of these was to turn. He soon discovered 
that as he neared the bottom of the slope, where he 
wasn’t running too fast, he could make a consider- 
able turn by edging his skis — throwing the weight 
on the left edge to turn left, and vice versa, as on 
skates. But when he tried it on the steeper slope, 
where he went at full speed, he merely succeeded in 
getting a good spill, if he turned far enough really 
to alter his course much. 

“ Hi, Peanut,” he called. “ What does the old 
book say about turning ? I want to learn to turn.” 

“Well,” said Peanut, “there’s the Christiania 
swing, and the Telemark turn, and the stemming 
turn, as I remember.” 

“ Well, how do you do ’em ? ” 

“ Don’t ask me — I haven’t read up that far.” 

“Well, hurry up,” said Jimmy. “I want to learn 
’em, and get to jumping.” 

He kept on at his experiments, while the others 


252 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


were still practicing the Telemark stem, and suddenly 
they heard him give a cry of triumph. “ Look, 
look I Now watch me I he said. 

He hurried back to the very top of the hill and 
started down, going into the Telemark position. 
Part way down, while still running at full speed, he 
suddenly did something the rest could not see clearly, 
and, lo and behold 1 he turned in a fine, easy swoop, 
clear to the left, and actually ended up in a standing 
position with his skis pointed part way back up the 
hill again 1 

“ Golly, that kid’s a wonder 1 ” said Peanut. 
‘‘ How’d you do it, Jimmy ? ” 

Jimmy came panting back up the slope. 

“Why, it’s just as easy!” he said. “I don’t 
know what that turn is, but I can do it every time 
now. You just start to do the Telemark stem, only 
you keep your weight all on the heel of the forward 
foot, and that starts you round, and you bring the 
other foot along with it — and there you are 1 See — 
it’s this way.” 

Off he went again, and this time he turned once to 
the left, and then, near the bottom, to the right, mak- 
ing a great letter S of tracks. 

Peanut and Old Hundred, who had by this time 
pretty well mastered the Telemark stem, now tried 
the turn, but the afternoon was over before they had 
got the hang of it so that they could do it oftener 


THE WILDCATS TRY THEIR SKIS 253 

than one time out of six. The day ended with 
Jimmy easily the ski champion. 

That night Peanut held a Scout meeting and 
brought the book along, and the evening was spent 
poring over the pictures and reading the descrip- 
tions aloud. The pictures of the great jumps which 
champion ski jumpers make in the Alps quite took 
the Scouts’ breath away. It didn’t seem possible 
that a human being could ever keep his footing after 
landing from such a height in the air. 

I guess you have to be pretty good before you 
try jumping,” sighed Old Hundred. 

“Bet I could make a little jump now,” said Jimmy. 
“ Going to bring a snow shovel to-morrow, and build 
a take-off platform.” 

“ Let’s all bring shovels,” said Peanut, “ and build 
a toboggan slide. If we don’t keep part of the hill 
for toboggans and part for skis, somebody’ll be get- 
ting hurt. Besides, the toboggans, with all the foot 
tracks of the people climbing back, spoil the skiing.” 

“ Aw, let ’em make their own slide,” said Cop. 

“ That’s no way for a Scout to talk,” Peanut an- 
swered. “ Most of ’em are girls or little kids, and 
it’s up to us to do ’em a good turn. Besides, they 
probably don’t know how to make a slide.” 

“ Oh, all right,” said Cop, cheerful once more. 
“ Shovels it is.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


The First Attempts at Ski Jumping 
HE next day the Scouts brought shovels to the 



X hill, and built a toboggan slide in short order. 
All they had to do was to send a toboggan straight 
down, and then shovel up banks of snow on either 
side of the track. After a few more trips, the bottom 
of the ditch thus made was packed down hard and 
smooth, the banks held the toboggans from slipping 
out, so nobody had to steer, and there was a good 
path to walk up in on either side, where the snow for 
the banks had been shoveled away. The toboggans 
began to go down this slide a mile a minute, Jimmy 
said — anyhow, very fast. 

A lot of the smaller boys looked hungrily at the 
Scouts^ skis, so hungrily that Peanut and the rest let 
them have a few trials at skiing, while the Scouts 
tried the toboggan slide. 

But the chief task for the Scouts that day was to 
learn the Telemark turn, and to practice some of the 
other turns, such as the Christiania and the stemming 
turn. While they were doing it, however, Jimmy 
went off to one side of the hill, with a snow shovel, 
and half-way down he built up a kind of step of 


254 


FIRST ATTEMPTS AT SKI JUMPING 255 

packed snow, about three feet high. When he had 
it finished, the rest saw him climb to the top of the 
hill above it, and start down. 

Everybody stood stock still and watched. Even 
the girls and boys with toboggans stopped to watch. 

Down the slope he came with a rush. Out over 
his step he rushed — and flew into the air. He went 
for at least fifteen feet in the air before his skis hit 
the slope again. Then they hit the snow with a 
whirl of white powder — and Jimmy disappeared I 
Only one leg, with a waving ski on the end, was 
visible I 

** Hi, Jimmy, bet you could make a little jump I ” 
somebody called, as the small figure began to ex- 
tricate itself from the drift, looking like a miniature 
snowman. 

“ Come on an’ try it yourself, smarty,” said Jimmy, 
getting to his feet, and starting back up the hill. 

The rest all hurried over. About half the other 
people on the hill came, too, and formed a line along 
the side of the jump. Peanut, Old Hundred, Spike, 
Pete and Albert climbed to the top with Jimmy. 

“ I guess if he can try it, we can,” the Scout Mas- 
ter said. 

Down went Jimmy again, and out he sailed into 
the air. This time, as he landed, he went down in- 
stantly into the Telemark position, and actually con- 
trived to keep his balance, running on to the bottom 


256 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


of the hill, where he came up straight on his skis and 
waved both arms triumphantly. 

“Come on! Next!” yelled the spectators down 
by the jump. “ Hurry up there, Pete ! ” 

Pete’s skis were pointed out over the brow. He 
was looking down at the jump. “ Gosh ! I don’t 
want to do it ! ” he whispered. 

Albert gave him a sudden shove from behind, and 
he went off before he could stop himself. Two sec- 
onds later he hit the jump, and sailed out into the 
air. One second after that he was half buried in 
snow ! 

The spectators shouted with laughter, and yelled 
for somebody else to come on. Peanut started next. 
He felt the wind in his face. He saw the jump rush- 
ing nearer and nearer. He crouched over his skis 
and flew off the edge into the air. He made a tre- 
mendous effort to keep his balance when he hit the 
slope again, but it was of no use. He, too, dove 
headlong into the snow. 

One by one the rest tried it, all with the same 
result. 

Alice Harrington, a high school freshman, was one 
of the spectators. 

“ Ho,” she said, “ you boys are no good at all, ex- 
cept Jimmy. Bet / could do it ! ” 

“ Come on and try, then,” said Albert. “ You can 
take my skis 1 ” 


FIRST ATTEMPTS AT SKI JUMPING 257 

Alice was not to be stumped. She took the 
skis with a laugh, and started up the hill with 
them. 

“ Come along, Lucy, you try it, too,” she said to 
another girl. 

Lucy looked doubtful, but Pete rushed at her, and 
grabbed her as she tried to run. 

“ Here, you take my skis,” he said. “ Votes for 
women ! Let^s see what the girls can do, they’re so 
smart I ” 

Alice and Lucy put on the skis at the top of the 
hill. Neither of them had ever had on a pair before. 
They became scared on the brow, and hung back, 
but Pete and Albert pushed them off, one after the 
other. Poor Lucy went first. She didn’t even get 
to the jump. She fell before she had gone twenty 
feet. But Alice kept her balance, and hit the jump 
at top speed. Off she flew into the air — hit the 
slope again — and dove headforemost into the snow ! 

The boys fairly howled with glee. 

But the girls didn’t offer to try it again. They 
went back to their toboggan slide. Most of the 
Scouts, after a few more trials, went back to running 
also. Only Jimmy and Old Hundred kept at the 
jumping. When the afternoon was over, Jimmy 
could take the jump successfully about five times out 
of ten, and Old Hundred about three. 

‘‘I said I could do it— and I did it!” Jimmy ex- 


258 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

claimed, as the patrol was hiking homeward. ‘‘ Gee, 
it’s fun I ” 

“ Well, the rest of us aren’t ready for jumping yet, 
I guess,” said Peanut, ‘‘ and neither are you, really. 
We’ve got to get more confidence. As soon as we 
get sure of two or three turns and all have the Tele- 
mark stem down pat, we’ll go for an all-day run, 
with a race home. After that, maybe, we’ll be ready 
to try jumping again.” 

“Hooray!” cried Jimmy. “Let’s go out to the 
camp on Bald Face on skis 1 ” 

“ Going to jump off the cliff?” asked Cop. 

“ An’ let’s cook our lunch in camp.” 

“ An’ let’s sleep out all night. Bet we could keep 
warm.” 

“ No sleeping out, I guess,” laughed Peanut. “ I’d 
just as soon try it, if we had fur sleeping bags, but 
we ain’t — haven’t — got any. We’ll go to camp, and 
have lunch, and then go up to High Farm on the 
north end of the mountain and race home from the 
top of the pasture. The road down winds around, 
and the Scout who can make turns the best, at the 
highest speed, ’ll win, all right.” 

“ Hooray! when’ll we go? To-morrow?” 

“Nix,” said the Scout Master. “ We’ll go after 
each one of you has demonstrated that he can stop 
short on Cole’s Hill by the Telemark stem, and do 
either a Telemark turn or a Christiania swing both to 


FIRST ATTEMPTS AT SKI JUMPING 259 

right and left, and both a down-hill and an up-hill 
turn, into the bargain. ’Twouldn’t be safe to run 
down from High Farm unless we were sure of all 
those things. We ought to master the jump around, 
too.” 

“ Gee, let’s practice all day to-morrow ! ” said Old 
Hundred. 

‘‘ Sure,” said Pete. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


A Ski Run Over Bald Face Mountain 
HEY did practice all the next day, and all the 



A rest of the week, in fact. Peanut had turned 
the book over to Jimmy, who seemed to be the natural 
born skier of the crowd, and he studied all the stems 
and turns at night, putting his skis on in the front 
parlor, much to his mother’s consternation, and set- 
ting his feet in the different positions on the carpet, 
while he held the book in his hand to see that he 
was doing it right. Then, the next day, he would 
try it out on the hill, and teach the rest. 

“ Gee,” he cried one day, “ I’ve been reading the 
book on jumping, and we were all doing it wrong. 
No wonder we fell. We didn’t do the sats right 
at all.” 

“The which?” said Cop. 

“The sats,” Jimmy replied with a grin. “My 
goodness, don’t you know what the sats is ? ” 

“No, and you didn’t either, till last night,” said 
Cop. 

“You mean the sits, don’t you ? ” Peanut laughed. 
“ That’s what most of us did when we jumped.” 

“ The sats,” Jimmy explained, “ is the position 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 261 


you have to take when you spring off the platform, 
or edge of the jump. Can’t explain it now — wait 
till we jump again, and I’ll show you, though.” 

After a week of hard practice. Peanut decided that 
the patrol could run well enough to attempt a really 
long, high hill. They could all snow plough, do the 
Telemark stem and turn (in either direction, right or 
left), do a stemming turn and a Christiania swing, 
and a jump around. To be sure, none of them did 
these things any too gracefully, except Jimmy, or 
was sure every time of bringing it off without a 
tumble, but they could all get along fairly well. 

It was Thursday afternoon when they decided on 
their all day run, setting the time as the following 
Saturday, the last week day of vacation. That 
afternoon the sun was very hot, and the snow was 
sticky. All the Scouts had pieces of wax in their 
pockets, and each trip, before they took the run 
* down the hill, they had to clean the snow off their 
ski runners, and wax them, to make them slip. 

“ Golly, I hope we don’t get a thaw before Satur- 
day I ” Old Hundred sighed. ** Looks bad to me.” 

That very evening, in fact, the weather moderated 
so much that a little rain fell before morning, but it 
grew cold again, and the rain froze, turning later to 
snow. The old snow underneath froze into a crust, 
on which the new snow, about an inch of it, fell, and 
when the boys came out Friday afternoon for their 


262 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


final practice they found skiing a totally different 
proposition from the past week. 

Where the new snow had stayed on the crust, it 
wasn’t so bad. The Telemark stem, to be sure, 
didn’t hold nearly so well, and they had to turn 
more frequently by the Christiania. But where the 
new snow had blown off the crust, as it had at one 
place on the hill, near the bottom, the first boys 
down got several rather nasty spills, breaking 
through the crust and scratching their hands and 
faces. 

Jimmy, however, had by now read the book all 
through, and he was prepared for the emergency. 

“ When the going gets icy, snow plough,” he said. 
“ That spreads your feet wide apart, and you can 
keep your balance, and slow down your speed. 
See ” 

He whizzed out on the glazed crust, went into a 
snow plough position, and crossed with great ease. 

‘‘We got to watch for different kinds of going 
to-morrow,” he said, “ and be ready to meet the 
emergencies.” 

Saturday was a fine, clear, cold day. The eight 
Scouts and Peanut met at nine o’clock at the Scout 
House. Each had on an extra pair of heavy wool 
socks under his waterproof boots, pull down caps, 
an extra pair of thick gloves, an extra sweater 
strapped to his pack, and in his pack materials for 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 263 

lunch, cooking kit, and a hatchet. The hatchets 
were carried in the packs, because if worn at the 
belt the handle might hurt the hip in a fall. Finally, 
each boy had a pair of cheap smoked spectacles, to 
prevent possible headaches or snow blindness from 
the glare. 

Peanut inspected the equipment, and the Scouts 
took up the march, carrying their skis over their 
shoulders through the village, where the roads and 
walks were broken out. A lot of the smaller boys 
watched them enviously, and eagerly asked where 
they were going. 

Once outside of the village, they put on their 
skis, and struck out across the fields beside the 
road, toward Bald Face. They made quite as good 
time as if they had been walking on dry ground. 
As the crust under the inch of new snow held them 
up, trail breaking was easy. When the snow is 
soft and deep, trail breaking is very hard, for the 
first man sinks in deep at every step, and every- 
body has to take turns at frequent intervals. 

After half an hour they reached the pasture where 
the path went up Bald Face, and, crossing it, came 
to the edge of the woods, where Art and Skinny’s 
hut was. Skinny and Art turned aside into the 
hemlocks to see if it was still there. It was, all 
right, but evidently full of snow. 

From now on, transversing up the slope was 


264 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

almost impossible, for they were in the woods, and 
had to follow the path, the skis being so long that 
it was very difficult to navigate them amid the 
underbrush. Here in the woods, too, the snow was 
still soft, for it had not melted under the warm sun 
of Thursday morning, nor had much of the later 
rain reached it. 

The Scouts advanced up the path with consider- 
able difficulty, using their poles constantly to keep 
from back slipping. 

“ Say, me for snow-shoes in the woods,” said 
Peanut. “Skis weren’t made for American forests. 
Guess the Indians knew their business.” 

The path grew steeper and steeper as they ad- 
vanced, and finally Jimmy, who was in the lead, had 
to resort to side stepping. 

Side stepping is effective even on a very steep 
slope, but it is slow and rather tiresome. You set 
your skis parallel, at right angles to the slope and 
then simply side step up, one foot after the other. 
The patrol advanced this way for a time, till the 
path turned sharp up the mountain out of the old 
wood road, and became so narrow that there was no 
room to side step ; the ends of the skis caught the 
trees and bushes on either side. 

“ Guess we walk,” said Jimmy, taking off his skis. 

Walking was hard work in two feet of snow, on a 
steep trail, and the boys finally reached the camp 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 265 

with the perspiration standing out on their fore- 
heads. 

The hut was half buried in snow, but the roof 
had held. Inside, thanks to the fact that the great 
boulder in front made a wind break, there was very 
little snow, and only about a foot in the space be- 
tween the hut and the boulder. Half of the Scouts 
quickly cleared this space, while the others went 
searching for dry fuel. Extra wood was stacked up 
ready, and a fire made to get the fireplace melted 
clear, and the stones hot. Then, leaving their skis 
behind, the patrol toiled up the remaining two hun- 
dred feet of the mountain to see the winter view. 

The rocky summit above the cliffs was swept 
almost bare of snow by the wind, and it was very 
cold up there. They all put on their extra sweaters 
to keep warm, and their colored glasses to resist the 
tremendous dazzle which came from looking down 
on a vast expanse of snow. They were the center 
of a white circle, forty miles in diameter, and the air 
was so clear that they could almost read the clock 
face on the Southmead church steeple — or Cop said 
he could, at any rate. 

After enjoying this unusual sensation of being on 
a mountain top in the middle of winter, they de- 
scended to the camp, melted snow for water, and 
cooked luncheon. 

First they had piping hot soup made out of 


266 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


bouillon cubes. Then they had bacon and fried 
potatoes and some of the boys had chops. Cop 
cooked a piece of steak. Jimmy had two eggs, 
which he had brought in a box of cotton, and 
scrambled them in his fry pan. They had tea to 
drink, bread and butter, and sweet chocolate for 
dessert. With a roaring fire going against the boul- 
der, and throwing its heat back into the lean-to, the 
boys weren’t cold at all. In fact, their faces were 
almost too hot. And how good the lunch tasted, 
after the hard climb in the clear, bracing mountain 
air ! 

“Say, I bet we could sleep in this hut, without 
fur sleeping bags, if we kept a fire like this going,” 
Old Hundred declared. 

“ Bet we could, too,” said Cop. 

“ Would you get up every hour all night to keep 
the fire going ? ” Peanut asked. 

“ Would if I woke,” said Cop. 

They rested an hour after lunch, and then came 
the start for home. 

“The race won’t begin till we get to the top of 
the pasture above High Farm,” said Peanut. “The 
job’s going to be to get there, though.” 

“ We can take the mountain easiest by carrying 
our skis to the top,” said Jimmy, “and then follow 
the summit path north.” 

Accordingly they shouldered packs and skis, and 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 267 

climbed back in their morning tracks to the col 
between the two peaks ; put on the skis at that 
point, and by side stepping on the steep places, got 
over the north peak and began the descent of two 
hundred feet to the upland pasture. This descent 
was through the woods, by a winding trail, and 
while not very steep, was hard to manage. Jimmy 
led the way, snow ploughing constantly, to keep the 
speed down, and almost stopping before the turns. 
The rest followed suit, and everybody reached the 
open pasture without mishap. 

As they came out of the woods into the great, 
sloping pasture which had been cleared on the 
northern shoulder of Bald Face, Jimmy uttered a 
yell. 

** Hooray ! ” he cried. “ Here’s where the race 
begins ! Every feller for himself, now.” 

The rest lined up beside him, and looked down. 
Some of the Scouts whistled dubiously. 

“ Say, this is some hill,” said Cop. “ I — I — I 
guess I’m getting cold feet I ” 

The pasture stretched down away from their feet 
for at least a half of a mile, and then dipped over 
sharply, so that they could not see anything imme- 
diately below the dip but the roof of the farmhouse 
and barn. Nobody lived in this house in winter. 
The pasture was used for a big herd of cattle in 


summer. 


268 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Beyond the house and barn the woods began again, 
but through these woods a road wound and turned, 
for two miles, to the Southmead valley. 

** You all know where the road begins,” said Pea- 
nut. “ It isn't likely anybody’s been up it with a 
team since this snow, so it won’t be tracked. Re- 
member, the man who gets home first will be the 
man who runs straightest and fastest, but he won’t 
be if he hits a tree, or falls a dozen times. We don’t 
want any accidents. Don’t go too fast to control 
yourself. Take the steepest places on the transverse, 
and slow up by making an up-hill turn before you 
begin the next tack. Snow plough on the road be- 
fore all the turns. And remember this — if you feel 
you are going to run into a tree or a rock or a fence^ 
fall down before you get to it. See ? 

“ Now, everybody can have two minutes to study 
out his path to the top of the road. In two minutes, 
when I say go, we’re off. The race is to the Scout 
House, and you’ve got to keep your skis on all the 
way. No walking when you reach the beaten road.” 

The Scouts felt of their pack straps, buttoned their 
coats tight, set their caps hard over their ears, grasped 
their poles, and waited. 

“ Go ! ” said Peanut. 

The nine of them went. 

Jimmy, Old Hundred and Peanut ran in a bee-line 
for the roof of the distant barn. The others started 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 269 

on a transverse, some to the right, some to the 
left. 

“ Look out for different kinds of snow ! ” Jimmy 
yelled, as he got to going. 

You don’t have much time to look out for any- 
thing when you are ski running down a long, steep 
hill. As they were running straight, while the others 
were taking the pasture at an easier angle, Peanut, 
Old Hundred and Jimmy were, it seemed to them, 
almost immediately on the very verge of the steep 
drop to the house and barn. As they rushed toward 
it, the house and barn disappeared below the brow, 
and it looked exactly as if they were about to run off 
the edge of a precipice. 

Old Hundred dropped to the Telemark, and be- 
gan to stem. This worked all right for a second, al- 
though he was going too fast to stem well — but the 
next second they all three struck crust, where the 
wind had blown the top snow off, and the Telemark 
didn’t work at all. Another second, and Old Hun- 
dred, in his frantic efforts to stop his pace, had pitched 
over, breaking through the crust and stopping with 
a bang. 

Peanut, however, before he struck the crust, had 
begun an up-hill Christiania swing, and he negotiated 
the crust without a spill, coming to a stop with his 
skis pointed up the slope. 

But Jimmy kept right on. When he hit the crust. 


270 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


he snow ploughed strongly, stopping his speed a 
little, and on the loose snow beyond, just at the brow 
of the steeper pitch, he, too, did an up-hill turn, but 
without coming to a stop. It merely slowed him up, 
while he looked at the going below, and then he did 
a jump around and, dropping into the Telemark 
position, ran straight over for the open space be- 
tween the house and the barn. 

Peanut turned to Old Hundred and asked if he 
was hurt 

“ I — I don’t think so,” Old Hundred replied, get- 
ting to his feet. 

They looked back up the hill, and had to laugh, for 
no less than three other Scouts, two to the right and 
one to the left, had fallen on the crust. The remain- 
ing two, though still upright, were just about stopped 
up, preparatory to running the steeper slope at 
slackened speed. 

But when they looked down, Jimmy was already 
shooting between the house and the barn, headed for 
the road into the woods ! 

“ Come on I We’ve got to catch him,” cried Pea- 
nut, starting off in pursuit, almost in Jimmy’s tracks. 

Steep as this slope was, it was comparatively 
smooth running, the only trouble being to make the 
open bars in the fence, between the house and the 
barn. Running beside Jimmy’s tracks. Peanut and 
Old Hundred succeeded without difficulty, but the 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 271 

rest, taking the hill from different angles, had to do 
some turning and even stopping at the bottom. 

Peanut was the second through, Old Hundred a 
few feet behind him. From this point, the road be- 
gan — a road virgin of any tracks except the line of 
Jimmy^s runners. It was a white highway between 
snow-laden trees and bushes, leading very steeply 
into the woods below. 

The two boys rushed on, snow ploughing a little 
as they neared the woods, to avoid hitting a different 
kind of snow at too high a speed. It was lucky they 
did so, for the second they entered the shadow of the 
woods, the crust ceased, and the footing became 
quite different. 

Peanut had dropped into the Telemark position, 
Old Hundred following suit, just as they shot 
under the first shadow, and as the road plunged 
down ahead, around a sharp turn, he was stemming 
furiously. The first soft snow nearly stopped him 
short, and right in front of him he saw the marks 
where Jimmy had taken a tumble ! 

“ Hi I Jimmy took a spill when he hit the soft 
stuff ! ” he called back to Old Hundred. “ Look out 
for the turn ahead. Maybe we’ll catch him yet.” 

Rising into the regular running position, he esti- 
mated the distance to the turn ahead, and set off 
again, making the bend of the road by a Christiania 
swing. Ahead the road lay straight and not very 


272 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


steep for two or three hundred yards, and the snow 
was so soft in the woods that there was little danger 
of running too fast. Peanut let himself go as fast 
as the skis would move, Old Hundred following. 
Behind them they heard a yell and much laughter, 
evidently as somebody else took a spill on hitting 
the soft snow. 

The next bend was easy, and then followed a 
short but very steep descent with almost a right 
angle turn at the bottom. Peanut went down Tele- 
mark stemming all the way, and had himself in good 
control for the turn, but Old Hundred, thinking to 
pass the Scout Master on this stretch, came down 
running free, and tried, as he neared the bottom, 
having passed Peanut half-way down, to snow 
plough. 

Now, when you snow plough in soft, deep snow, 
unless you can straddle almost to the ground, your 
skis sink in very deep and consequently the snow 
exerts such a pressure against them that they 
squeeze together again. 

That is what Old Hundred’s did. He didn’t re- 
duce his speed at all, and as he was going too fast 
to make the turn, he saw that in about two seconds 
he would land bang into the trees and bushes on the 
bank at the bend. There was only one thing to do, 
and he did it. He fell down. 

Peanut went by him again, with a laugh. 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 273 

“You would, would you?” he cried. “ Ever hear 
of the hare and the tortoise ? ” 

Before Old Hundred could get up to his feet, two 
of the other Scouts had caught up with him, and 
Peanut was out of sight ahead. 

The worst of the run was now over. Though the 
hill and the bends continued, they were not so steep 
but that, in this soft snow, the boys could all ne- 
gotiate them without trouble. When they reached 
the open fields at the bottom of the mountain they 
were pretty well bunched, and it became a foot race 
home. Spike, who had been the last one down the 
hill, had the best wind of the crowd, and the longest 
legs, and here on the level he soon passed the rest. 

But though he picked up Peanut’s and Jimmy’s 
ski tracks cutting across lots toward the village, he 
didn’t see either boy. The fields soon ended in a 
patch of woods, and beyond them, after a rise, came 
another long, easy hill, dropping down to the edge 
of the golf links. When he reached this hill, he saw 
Peanut in the far distance, running over the links as 
fast as he could go. Almost as far ahead of him 
was Jimmy. 

Spike took the slope at top speed, in Peanut’s 
tracks — and in Jimmy’s tracks too, for that matter, 
as Peanut had trailed Jimmy. 

When he had crossed the links, and reached the 
Southmead Main Street he saw Peanut disappear- 


274 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


ing into the walk to the Scout House. When he 
got there, Jimmy was lying on a bench, panting but 
triumphant, and Peanut was fanning himself with a 
boxing glove. 

Suddenly they heard a shouting, and running out, 
saw the other five in a close finish, with half a dozen 
other boys and men yelling encouragement. Old 
Hundred was leading by three or four ski lengths 
when the bunch reached the sidewalk, which they 
had to cross from the open space of unbroken snow 
between road and walk, where they had been travel- 
ing. Alas ! Old Hundred was in too much of a 
hurry, his ski point caught in the drift made by the 
snow plough, and over he went. Before he could 
get up, or Skinny could change his course. Skinny 
had bumped into him, and fallen down also. The 
two boys got their skis so tangled together that 
neither of them could get up, and the crowd laughed 
at them and forgot all about watching the finish of 
the race between the rest, which, as a matter of fact, 
was won by Albert. 

For the next half hour the Scout House was full 
of talk. Mr. Rogers had come over when he heard 
the yelling, and now heard all about the run. Every- 
body told how many falls he had, and what turns he 
used, and how scared he was when the first steep 
place suddenly loomed up and the house and barn 
disappeared so it looked as if you were going to run 


A SKI RUN OVER BALD FACE 275 

over a precipice; and everybody patted Jimmy on 
the back, and asked how he did it. 

Jimmy received his honors with becoming modesty. 

“ ’Twa’n’t nothin’,” he said. “ I just ran straight 
all the time, and made up-hill turns or swings at the 
top of every new slope, to slow down for the next 
run, without stopping. The only hard place was 
that steep pitch in the road with the sharp turn at 
the bottom. I had to Telemark stem down there to 
get around.” 

“ I saw you did,” said Peanut. “ That’s why / 
did it, too. Old Hundred didn’t — and he had to fall 
at the bottom to save himself.” 

“ So did I,” confessed Spike. 

“ Me, too,” said Albert and Pete, in chorus. 

“ All of which seems to prove,” said Mr. Rogers, 
** that you have to run skis with your head as well 
as your feet ! ” ^ 

“That’s right,” said Peanut. “Great head, 
Jimmy! ” 

“ All the same,” said Cop, who had fallen at the 
bottom of nearly all the steep places, in his mad ef- 
forts to make the turns at too high a speed, “ I’d do 
better if I had Jimmy’s feet ! ” 

“And I shouldn’t do so well if I had your fat,” re- 
torted Jimmy. “ Say, we going to begin jumping 
now ? I want to show you fellers the proper sats.” 

“I guess we’ll wait till Monday, Jimmy,” laughed 


276 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Peanut. “ Pve not got wind enough to jump over a 
toothpick now.” 

So the first ski run ended, and nine tired boys went 
home, after one of the most exciting and exhilarating 
day’s sport they had ever enjoyed. 


CHAPTER XXV 


Jimmy Wins the Cup for Jumping 

J IMMY came running over to Peanut’s house that 
very evening. 

“Say I” he cried, “there are a lot of city fellers 
here, with skis I Men, I mean. They came up to- 
day, I just heard, for the week end, and were over 
on Cole’s Hill all the afternoon. Guess they’ve got 
real Norwegian skis, maybe, and we oughter learn a 
lot from them. Let’s go over and watch ’em to- 
morrow.” 

“All right,” said Peanut. “Guess there’s no harm 
in taking a walk on skis on Sunday, any more’n 
walking on your feet. Get some of the other Scouts.” 

The next afternoon, half a dozen of the patrol were 
at Cole’s Hill to watch the strangers. But one look 
convinced the Scouts that they already knew more 
about skiing than the visitors did. 

“ Why, all they’re doing is just running straight 
down ! ” said Jimmy, with great contempt. “ Ain’t a 
one of ’em made a single turn.” 

“ Look at the clothes, though,” said Cop. “ Gee, 
knickerbockers and high moccasins, and purple 
sweaters I Some class to that ! ” 


277 


278 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Jimmy couldn’t be restrained. He climbed the 
hill, the rest following, and stood beside the men, 
looking curiously at their handsomely varnished skis 
and elaborate foot harnesses. 

“ Hello, son,” one of the men said, in the patron- 
izing tone city men use to country boys, ” can you 
run skis, too ? Made your own, didn’t you ? ” 

Jimmy looked at him a second in the face, and 
then replied, “I’ll race you from here to the far 
corner, doing a Christiania swing to the left around 
the right hand side of that bush which sticks up al- 
most at the bottom of the hill, and running to the 
left of the next bush, and then, after touching the 
fence post in the corner, coming back here.” 

The other men roared. “ Say, Tom,” they cried, 
“ there’s a dare for you ! Going to take it ? ” 

“But — but ” the first speaker stammered. 

“ How can you get to the right of the first bush, and 
then to the left of the second? You’d have to turn 
almost up-hill.” 

“Sure,” said Jimmy. “Why not? I’ll give you 
a head start of fifty feet.” 

“Going to take him, Tom? It’s a dare, you 
know I ” the other men laughed. And one of them 
added, to little Jimmy, “ Why don’t you pick some- 
body your size ? It isn’t fair to challenge a poor little 
fellow like Tom.” 

Jimmy was too much in earnest even to grin. He 


JIMMY WINS THE CUP FOR JUMPING 279 

was mad clear through at the slighting reference to 
his home-made skis. “ Are you going ? ” he asked. 

The man laughed. “ Sure,” he said, and slipped 
over the edge. 

Jimmy gave him fifty feet, and then with a swift 
running start, went after him. Those on top watched 
the race. 

The man got to the first bush all right, but having 
only a vague idea how to turn, fell in the effort. 
Jimmy passed him with a perfect Christiania up-hill 
swing to the left, went around the other bush, and 
flew on to the corner. He had touched the post be- 
fore the man was on his feet again, and met his op- 
ponent on the return journey. Taking the hill at 
the steepest grade he could without back slipping, 
he made two kicks around, and reached the top 
while the other was still struggling back up the lower 
slopes. 

‘‘ Home-made skis are all right, when you know 
how to use them,” he panted, out of breath. 

“ Guess youTe stung, Tom,” the other men called 
to their companion. 

‘‘Can all you boys do turns like that?” one of 
them asked. 

“ Not so well as Jimmy can,” Peanut answered, 
“ but we can all do ^em. We learned to steer before 
we did any running. You have to. This ain’t — 
isn’t — running on this hill. This is just a practice hill. 


28 o 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Yesterday we came down from the top of Bald Face 
Mountain on skis.’’ 

“ Say, who taught you boys to ski, anyhow ? ” 
another man asked. “Are you all Norwegians?” 

“ We learned it out of a book,” said Peanut. 
“ There wasn’t anybody to teach us, so we got the 
book. Jimmy, there, can jump.” 

“ So can I, some,” put in Old Hundred. 

“ What are you. Boy Scouts ? ” 

“ Sure I ” came a chorus. 

“ Guess that explains it,” the man said, “ By the 
way — what’s the name of that book? ” 

“ I’d rather Jimmy taught me,” laughed Tom. 
“ He’s better than a book. How do you do that 
swing, anyhow ? ” 

Jimmy, having vindicated their home-made skis, 
was now good-natured again, and offered to show 
how. So, instead of learning, the boys spent the 
rest of the afternoon \n teaching. 

“ And they weren’t very smart pupils, either,” 
said Peanut, as he and Jimmy parted at his gate. 

The next day, when school began again, the Wild- 
cat Patrol found themselves fairly bombarded by 
smaller boys with requests to get them into the 
Scouts, to teach them how to make skis, and to take 
them on all-day ski runs. Peanut had certainly 
“started something” when he put his patrol on 
skis ! The whole town suddenly wanted to learn. 


JIMMY WINS THE CUP FOR JUMPING 281 

So, instead of its being difficult for Cop, Pete and 
some of the others to enlist recruits for a new patrol, 
the difficulty suddenly was to choose among a num- 
ber of candidates. Finally each Scout selected a 
likely eighth grade boy, taught him the tenderfoot 
requirements, and brought him to the next Scout 
meeting. After that was done. Peanut had the satis- 
faction of seeing Mr. Rogers and the Council make 
all the Wildcat Patrol first class Scouts. 

Meanwhile, the manual training instructor was be- 
sieged with requests to make skis. All the new 
tenderfeet, and a good many other boys in the 
manual training class as well, worked long hours 
after school for a week or more, on their skis, and a 
fortnight after the vacation was over there were at 
least fifteen new pairs practicing on Cole’s Hill. 

But Jimmy had not been idle in the interim. He 
had rebuilt the jumping platform more in conform- 
ance with the pictures in the book, and practiced the 
sats till he had it right. Then he taught it to the rest. 

The sats is simply the action performed by the 
runner as his skis leave the edge of the jumping 
platform. Yet it is the most essential part of the 
whole jump. If you don’t do that right, it is almost 
impossible not to fall when you land. The only 
reason Jimmy had been able to jump before was be- 
cause he had instinctively done it more or less cor- 
rectly, while the others hadn’t. 


282 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


As you are running toward the platform, you must 
crouch low over your skis, with the feet parallel and 
close together, so that your knees are well in advance 
of your feet. Then just at the instant when your 
feet are on the edge of the jump off, with the points 
of the skis out in the air, you spring up as hard as 
you can (not out on your toes as if you were broad 
jumping — that is fatal), but spring right up from the 
knees, not letting the heels lift from the skis at all, 
nor the lower legs shift position. If you do this 
right, you come into a standing position leaning 
way forward, on the line that your legs from feet to 
knees had when you were crouched down. 

The reason you do this is because you do not 
land on the level, but on a sloping hill, and your 
body has got to be at right angles to the slope when 
you hit, not at right angles to the level ground. 
Therefore it has to be pitched forward. 

It is also possible to spring straight up on the sats, 
and bend forward in the air, but this is harder, al- 
though it gives a slightly longer jump. The great 
difficulty in jumping is to spring, to do the sats, ex- 
actly at the instant when your feet are over the edge 
of the platform. Ninety-nine green jumpers out of 
a hundred spring too late at first. 

The second great thing to remember is to keep 
both skis level, or pointed slightly down, in the air, 
and side by side. You should land with them to- 


JIMMY WINS THE CUP FOR JUMPING 283 

gether, absolutely. If one hits before the other, 
you’ll get a certain spill. When you feel them hit, 
then drop like a shot to the Telemark position, and 
run on so till you feel balanced securely. Then 
come up standing, make a Christiania turn as soon 
as you can, and face up-hill. If you do all this prop- 
erly, it will be as pretty a sight to watch as anybody 
could ask for. 

Day by day the Wildcats got better and better at 
jumping from a low, easy platform, and after a 
couple of weeks, during which there had come six 
inches more of nice, soft snow, they increased the 
height of the platform to six feet, and on a Saturday 
afternoon held the first contest. 

Some of the new patrol, which had now been 
equipped with skis, and enrolled as the Weasel 
Patrol, entered the contest, too, for they had been 
practicing, and one or two of them could really 
make a jump now and then. Mr. Rogers was on 
hand with a tape. The rules were drawn up as 
follows : 

The measurement was taken from the base of the 
platform to the heavy indentation in the snow made 
by the ski under the foot of the jumper — the rear 
foot, of course, if his feet didn’t hit together. Dis- 
tance counted five points, style (that is, gracefulness, 
a good run after landing and a nice turn at the 
bottom) counted three points, and no fall two points. 


284 THE WILDCAT PATROL 

But if a contestant took three falls in succession he 
was ruled out. 

The jump had been built on the steepest part of 
the hill, half-way down, so that you hit the plat- 
form at high speed. Jimmy was the first one 
over. He made a fine, clean sats, and landed clean, 
too, flying on down the hill. The leap was thirty- 
six feet ! 

One by one the others followed. On their first 
try, all but Peanut and Old Hundred fell on landing, 
and nobody got over thirty- five feet — which was 
Peanut’s jump. The two Weasels who were in the 
contest both fell three times, and were ruled out. 
Cop, also, got three falls, as he couldn’t seem to 
time his sats at the high speed of the new runway. 
Finally only Spike, Old Hundred, Peanut and 
Jimmy were left, as the rest, after three jumps, 
had failed to reach the thirty-five feet the other four 
had attained. 

On the next try Jimmy made his sats straight up, 
instead of forward, and inclined his body forward 
while in the air, by swinging his arms ’round and 
’round. He landed a ski’s length ahead of his old 
mark, and spun on down. 

‘‘ Forty-two feet I ” Mr. Rogers shouted. 

The others tried it in turn. Old Hundred got 
nearly forty feet, but half-way down the run after 
landing he lost his balance and fell. Peanut got 


JIMMY WINS THE CUP FOR JUMPING 285 

quite forty feet, but he fell when he lit. Spike made 
a clean jump, but of only thirty-eight feet. 

“ I guess there’s no doubt who is champion ski 
jumper as well as runner,” said Mr. Rogers. “ Come 
here, Jimmy.” 

Jimmy drew near, as the other Scouts, including 
the Weasels, and a dozen or more other boys and 
girls, gathered around. 

Mr. Rogers, much to everybody’s surprise, even 
Peanut’s, took a little cloth bag out of his mackinaw 
pocket, opened the bag, and drew from it a little 
silver trophy cup, four inches high, on a small 
wooden base. 

“This is a prize for the ski championship of 
Southmead,” said the Scout Master. “ I’ll have 
it engraved with your name and the length of 
your jump. But I want everybody to see it now. 
They give cups for golf and tennis at the Country 
Club. I guess we Scouts can have our cups, too I ” 

“ What’s the matter with Jimmy ? He’s all 
right!” the crowd yelled, while Jimmy, looking 
very embarrassed, held the little cup proudly in 
his hand. 

“ This — this — this is the best fun I ever had 1 ” he 
said. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


The Big Ski Run of the Season 
OR the next month Peanut was busier than he 



J- had ever been in his life. Every morning he 
had to get up early and go over to West Bentford 
to gather his items. Then he had to come home 
and gather his Southmead items. Then he had to 
write them down and mail them to the Herald^ or 
else, if they were very important, telephone them up 
for the papter that same afternoon. 

Then, with two patrols under his care, he had to 
be out, after school, at least two days in the week, 
and always on Saturday, for ski running, and two 
evenings a week there were regular Scout meetings. 
Of course. Peanut did his best to have the Wildcats 
come to the Weasel meetings, and help in the work 
of teaching the new boys signaling, first aid, and so 
forth. 

“ Funny,” said Jimmy, after one of these meet- 
ings, “but somehow you really don’t know any- 
thing yourself till you try to teach it. I’ve learned 
more first aid showing it to the Weasels than I 
really knew before.” 


286 


THE BIG SKI RUN OF THE SEASON 287 

“ That’s right,” said Peanut. “ And a great thing 
about scouting is that there are always younger 
patrols coming along, so’s we fellers who are first 
class Scouts can just step up into Scout Masters 
when we grow too old to be Scouts, and keep learn- 
ing and helping all the time.” 

“ I’m going to be an assistant Scout Master just 
like you^ as soon’s I am eighteen,” said Jimmy, 
looking proudly at his friend. 

The snow held that winter wonderfully. On 
Washington’s Birthday it was still two feet deep, 
more having fallen to take the place of what had 
melted or settled down. On that day another all- 
day ski run was organized, this time with the 
Weasels in the party, also, and Mr. Rogers (who 
had made himself a pair of skis, to enjoy the fun 
with the rest, and had been practicing hard), and 
nearly all the Scouts from the Bear Patrol, a group 
of older boys whom Mr. Rogers looked after, and, 
finally, two Scouts from West Bentford, who had 
been over nearly every Saturday to learn how to 
ski from the Southmead patrols. 

That made a party of twenty-six, all on skis, with 
packs on their backs, who left the Scout House at 
nine o’clock and in column of twos marched (if you 
can call it marching) up the side of the street through 
Southmead. It was certainly the largest party of 
ski runners the town, or the whole county, for that 


288 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


matter, had ever seen, and men came out of their 
stores to watch them go past. Peanut thought to 
himself how it all had come from his buying the 
book on skiing, and getting one patrol to make skis 
— and he was pretty proud. 

Jimmy led the way, with Peanut at his side. They 
were off on a good run that day. All the boys were 
hard now, and quite at home on skis. Over roads 
and fields, up hill and down, through woods and 
across a frozen, snow-covered pond, the leaders 
went, other Scouts taking turns at breaking trail, 
when Jimmy and Peanut grew weary. Finally, 
nearly ten miles from home. Peanut and Jimmy, who 
had planned the run in secret, went into the lead 
again, and entered the woods. They led the way 
up and up, winding by an easy grade through the 
trees, till they reached the top of a high hill. Here, 
still in the woods, they took off their skis, and or- 
dered fires for lunch. 

Half a dozen big ones were made at once, and the 
party cooked and ate lunch. Then, after an hour’s 
rest, snow was shoveled on the fires, and Peanut 
gave orders for the start home. He and Jimmy led 
the way through the woods for nearly a quarter of a 
mile, on slowly rising ground, but difficult going, 
because of the undergrowth. Then, suddenly, the 
party burst out of the woods at the top of a great 
pasture which sloped down for a full mile, most of 


THE BIG SKI RUN OF THE SEASON 289 

the way pretty steep, and part way down, in fact, so 
steep that from the top you couldn’t see at all what 
lay below, until the extreme bottom end came out 
again into view. The pasture ended at the bottom 
against a fence. Beyond that was a strip of woods, 
and beyond the woods another field sloping down 
still more to a frozen pond. Two miles away, be- 
yond the pond, rose another big hill, almost a 
mountain. 

‘‘ Southmead is beyond that second hill,” said 
Jimmy. “ The short way home is across the pond 
and right over the next hill. There’s a long coast, 
like this one here, on the far side, only it’s not so 
open. The long way home is by the road to the 
right of that second hill. Everybody line up. It’s 
a race from here on ! ” 

‘‘ I’ll signal. When I say ‘ Go ! ’ beat it,” cried 
Peanut. ** Take a look at the slope first.” 

“Jiminy crickets, take a look at it I — can’t see 
anything but the top of it, it’s so steep I ” said Cop. 

Peanut gave the signal like a track meet — “ Get 
on your marks — get set — go ! ” and the twenty-six 
ski runners went over the brow. 

The great majority of them took the slope at an 
angle, in order to go slower and be prepared for 
trouble beyond the steep pitch. But Peanut, Old 
Hundred and one or two more followed Jimmy’s 
lead and took it direct. They all did an up-hill 


290 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


swing above the brow of the steep place, picked out 
their going below, and kept on. This second sec- 
tion of the descent grew extremely rough near the 
bottom. A wind current had wrinkled the snow 
here into little hard, close packed waves, like a 
choppy sea, and it was only by dropping into the 
Telemark position as he saw what was coming that 
Jimmy got across without a spill. The others all 
fell, and as they were picking themselves up, they 
saw about twenty others falling, to right and left of 
them. 

“ Ding it all, there’s Jimmy getting ahead again, 
just because he has ski sense ! ” cried Peanut, hur- 
rying on in pursuit. 

Climbing a fence with skis on is no easy job. 
Here again Jimmy gained on the rest, simply by 
standing side to the fence, swinging up to a sitting 
position on the top rail, and heaving his legs over 
by one motion. 

It was a rough run over the next field to the lake, 
with more wind-drifts on the surface, and there were 
more spills. Jimmy was well out on the surface of 
the pond (which was also wind-drifted and very 
rough) when most of the others reached the shore. 

But, in the next two miles. Peanut, Spike, Mr. 
Rogers and two or three of the Bears overhauled 
him, for there was no more coasting, but only just a 
mile of level and then a mile of climbing. The 


THE BIG SKI RUN OF THE SEASON 291 

bunch reached the southern side of the next summit 
close together. They were all panting, breathless, 
and dripping with perspiration. 

The slope of this second hill toward Southmead 
was a new problem. It wasn’t one big open pasture 
at all, but a series of little pastures, each very steep, 
separated by woods, and most of them filled, be- 
sides, with big boulders or single trees. You had 
to steer very carefully, and thread your way down, 
like a canoe running rapids. 

“ This hilTwas made for Jimmy,” panted Spike, as 
he slipped over and began to stem. 

“ Sure was,” said Peanut, following after, and also 
stemming hard to avoid a big rock which loomed up 
right ahead. 

Jimmy ran the hill at nearly twice the speed of the 
others. Even he didn’t escape two or three falls. 
He had to fall twice to avoid rocks which suddenly 
loomed up ahead and which had been invisible from 
the top. But he had so much more daring and so 
much better command of the stems and turns that he 
took the patches of open ground at top speed where 
the rest stemmed or snow ploughed, and after half 
the hill was covered he had quite disappeared ahead, 
winding his way from one open pasture glade to an- 
other. The rest never headed him again. 

Spike and Peanut raced home for second place. 
Peanut winning out by a couple of hundred yards, 


292 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


but when they got to the house Jimmy had quite got 
his breath back and was sitting calmly, as if nothing 
had happened. 

The other twenty-three straggled in one by one, 
nearly half an hour separating Jimmy from the last 
Scout in — who was Cop, dripping wet, his fat face 
red as in summer. 

“ Well, that’s real sport ! ” Mr. Rogers cried. 
“ I never knew ski running was like that — so 
exciting and full of adventure. I thought you just 
got out on a hill and slid, as you would with a 
toboggan.” 

“ That’s all they do do, over in our town,” said 
one of the West Bentford Scouts. “ Gee, it’s more 
fun taking a real run I Guess we’ll have our fellows 
doing it now, though.” 

“ I don’t believe anybody around here takes real 
ski runs but us. Peanut,” said the Scout Master, 
“ Why don’t you write it up for the Herald? ” 

“Gee, that’s a good idea,” said Peanut. 

Accordingly he shut himself up in his room all the 
next day, and wrote a piece about ski running as a 
winter sport, describing their two all-day runs, and 
putting in as much fun as he could about spills and 
unexpected wind-drifts. This piece, which was 
nearly two columns long, he sent up to the Herald, 
together with some photographs, and the very next 
day, which was Saturday, they printed it all, to- 


THE BIG SKI RUN OF THE SEASON 293 

gether with the pictures Mr. Rogers had taken of 
the big party as it was winding its way up a slope, 
and one of Cop, falling head first into a drift 

Peanut got ten dollars for this article. But that 
wasn’t all he got. On Monday morning he received 
a letter from the editor. He opened it, read it, 
gasped — and ran as fast as he could for Mr. Rogers’ 
house. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


Peanut Gets His Chance 

T TELL, what’s on your chest now?” Mr. 

VV Rogers asked, as Peanut burst into the 
studio. 

“ Read this I ” cried Peanut, holding out the 
letter. 

He stood over the Scout Master’s shoulder as he 
read. 

Pipe the way it begins ! ” said he — “ ‘ Dear Mr. 
Morrison ’ — Mr. Morrison, if you please. Some 
class to that, what ? ” 

Mr. Rogers read on. The letter was from the 
managing editor of the Herald. He said first that 
he was glad to print Peanut’s story about ski run- 
ning, as it was the kind of story which interested all 
classes of readers, and then he went on to say that he 
had been watching Peanut’s work as correspondent 
all winter, and had noticed with pleasure its general 
accuracy and timeliness. 

“ Bouquets, what? ” Peanut snickered. 

Mr. Rogers read on. “ As one of our reporters is 

294 


PEANUT GETS HIS CHANCE 


295 


leaving us next week,” the letter continued, ‘‘ and as 
I understand your ambition is to become a regular 
staff reporter, I am wondering if you would care to 
have a try in his place. If so, come to see me at 
your earliest convenience.” 

“Well, what do you know about that?” Peanut 
declared, as Mr. Rogers handed the letter back. 

“ Pretty good,” said the Scout Master. “ Are you 
going up to see him this afternoon ? ” 

“ Well, thaPs what's sticking in my crop,” Peanut 
answered, “ so I came to see you. If I go to work 
in Hampton next week, what’ll become of the 
Scouts? Don’t seem fair, exactly. Here I’ve got 
the Wildcats going, and now still another patrol, the 
Weasels, and there’s nobody to take my place, with 
Art and Lou and Frank and Rob all away, and so 
it’s kind o’ leaving you and the Scouts in the lurch. 
Gee whiz, I didn’t expect to get a chance like this 
for a whole year^ at least I I ought to stick till the 
Weasels are first class Scouts, anyhow, I guess.” 

“ Don’t you want to be a reporter ? ” 

“ Golly, don’t I want to be I Guess I do ! But I 
kind o’ feel that I owe a duty to the Scouts, too, and 
to you. I’d — I’d be a pretty cheap skate if I left 
you in the lurch.” 

“ Well, I’m glad you feel that way about it. Pea- 
nut,” Mr. Rogers said. “ You wouldn’t be the chap 
I think you are if you didn’t, though. But the first 


296 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


thing we’ve got to consider now is yourself. The 
Scouts exist to give the boys a chance to develop 
their characters, to give them a better start in the 
world. If the Scouts have helped you get your 
chance to be a reporter, why, the Scouts ought to 
be glad of it, and send you off to Hampton with a 
cheer. Besides, you’ve done a lot for the Scouts 
already, and so for the town. We can transfer 
Jimmy over to the Weasels as patrol leader, and the 
Bears are growing up so fast now that I can get an 
assistant Scout Master from them before long, and 
in the meantime, maybe the new Congregational 
minister will help me out. He seems like a live 
wire. You take your chance while it’s here. 

* There’s a tide in the affairs of men ’ 

You know the quotation — or you ought to.” 

“Do you really mean it?” cried Peanut. “It’s 
all right for me to go ? ” 

“Go to it I ” Mr. Rogers laughed. “You catch 
the next car — only tell your mother first.” 

Peanut rushed happily out, and that afternoon he 
had an interview with the editor of the Herald. 
When he came back he informed Mr. Rogers that 
he was to start work the following Monday, and his 
salary was to be ten dollars a week to start with, 
and more if he “ made good.” 

“ Do you think I can make good ? ” he asked. 


PEANUT GETS HIS CHANCE 


297 

^‘Gee, I’ll feel awful small and scared, up there in 
a real city, on a real newspaper ! ” 

“ Remember, you’re a Scout,” Mr. Rogers smiled, 
hitting him on the back. “ Be prepared I ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


Peanut's Farewell Feast 


LL that week Peanut and his mother were busy, 



JlIL getting ready for his departure. His mother 
was sorting his clothes, mending them, making him 
bedding and towels. He was packing up some fur- 
niture for the room he had hired, boxing his precious 
books, including “ How to Ski,” and a book about 
newspaper reporting which Mr. Rogers had given 
him to study, and going to his final Scout meetings. 

The Wildcats and Weasels were busy, too, but he 
didn't know it. They were preparing a surprise 
party at the Scout House on Saturday night — a reg- 
ular farewell dinner. On Saturday afternoon. Peanut 
took his last ski run, on Cole's Hill. The snow was 
sticky, the jump had melted down, but the boys 
made the best of it — rather sadly, as they hated to 
see their leader go. 

Then at six o'clock they took the surprised Peanut 
to the Scout House. 

The gym was lighted with paper lanterns, a long 
table was spread with camp plates and cups, there 
was a big urn of coffee, there was soup heated over 
the stove, there were cold meat and salad and dough- 


298 


PEANUT’S FAREWELL FEAST 


299 


nuts and pies, given by the boys’ mothers. Mr. 
Rogers was there, and two of the Scout Council, 
and both of Peanut’s patrols. 

After the supper was over, Old Hundred, who had 
been chosen as toast master, rose at his place and 
pounded the table for order. 

“ Fellow Scouts,” he said, “ we all know Peanut, I 
guess, and how he’s been our Scout Master and how 
he’s going to leave us next week and go up to 
Hampton to be a reporter. Guess we’re all mighty 
sorry to see him go, and we want him to remember 
us, so we fellers have chipped in and got him some- 
thing so he’ll remember us and so’s he’ll know how 
we ap-ap-appreciate what he’s done for the Scouts.” 

Here Old Hundred fished into his pocket and pro- 
duced a package, handing it to the astonished Pea- 
nut, who opened it, and drew out a new fountain 
pen I 

“ Well — I’ll — I’ll — it’ll be great to write stories 
with I ” he stammered. 

Now, fellers, three long ’rahs and three Peanuts 
on the end I ” cried Old Hundred — and the roof of 
the Scout House nearly lifted I 

When the echoes subsided, everybody began to 
yell, “ Speech I Speech I ” 

Peanut got up on his feet, very much embarrassed. 

Fellow Scouts,” he began, “ you’ve pretty nearly 
got my goat. I never made a speech in my life. 


300 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Nearest I ever came to it was in a high school de- 
bate, when I was alternate, and I was scared for a 
week that Lou Merritt was going to be sick, so I’d 
have to take his place. I — I — wish I could make a 
speech, an’ tell you how pleased I am to have you 
fellows give me this dinner and this pen. Guess I 
didn’t need it to remember you all by, but I’m 
mighty glad to have it. I’ll never forget you fellows 
— ’specially Cop’s feet sticking out of the snow after 
a Telemark turn ! ” 

Peanut got his second wind, during the laughter 
at this, and went on. 

** But just because I’m going don’t — doesn’t — mean 
the Scouts stop,” he said. ” Mr. Rogers is the Big 
Boss, and even if he quit, the Scouts would go right 
on, because the movement is bigger’ n any of the men 
in it. But I guess we all owe a whole lot more’n 
we can ever pay to Mr. Rogers, though, and I want 
to tell you Scouts right now that I owe more to the 
Scout movement and to Mr. Rogers than I could tell 
if I talked till to-morrow morning. Why — why — if 
it hadn’t been for the Scouts, I guess I never would 
have had a chance to be a reporter ! It ain’t — isn’t 
— easy to put into words, but I just kind o’ lay down 
on my school work, same as some of you are doing 
now — and when I got through school I wasn’t fit for 
much of anything. 

“ It was Mr. Rogers that brought me up sharp, 


PEANUT’S FAREWELL FEAST 


301 


and it was Scout work — bossing you fellows, keep- 
ing Cop from fighting, inventing games, getting you 
through the tests — that really taught me how to do 
things right — guess Mr. Rogers would say, gave me 
a sense of responsibility ! So I guess it’s up to me 
to thank you, not the other way ’round. 

“ Guess I’ve talked enough now. But I just want 
to say that I shall miss you fellows a whole lot. I’m 
— I’m — I’m going to be homesick about Saturday 
afternoons, I bet, and I’ll think how Jimmy is doing 
a forty foot jump, and Cop is looking for wild flow- 
ers down under the snow, and Old Hundred and the 
rest are teaching the Weasels how to be first class 
Scouts, and — and I’ll just have nothing but my 
fountain pen to look at I ” 

Peanut’s voice suddenly broke, and he sat down, 
and blinked his eyes. Some of the boys were going 
to cheer, but Old Hundred started singing ‘‘Old 
Lang Syne,” and everybody joined in. Before it 
was over. Peanut had to blink very hard, and little 
Jimmy, sitting beside him, swallowed a large tear in 
each corner of his mouth. 

When the song was over, the Scouts again gave 
a yell for Peanut, and a yell for Mr. Rogers, and 
another for Peanut, and Jimmy walked silently home 
beside his friend, through the winter starlight, not 
trusting to speech. 

Sunday night Peanut departed for his new work. 


302 


THE WILDCAT PATROL 


Jimmy and Mr. Rogers and his mother and father 
went with him to the station. The snow was melt- 
ing fast. As the train disappeared up the track, 
and the Scout Master and Jimmy turned homeward 
through the slush, the boy said suddenly : 

“ I’m glad it’s melting. I don’t want to ski with- 
out Peanut ! ” 

“ Well, Jimmy,” Mr. Rogers replied, “ we’ll just 
have to read the Herald every day, and see what 
he’s doing.” 

“You bet I will!” said Jimmy. “I’m going to 
be a newspaper man, too 1 I’ll be through high 
school three years from next June, and then Vm 
going to be a reporter. Peanut’ll be editor then, 
and give me a job 1 ” 

“ Let us hope so, anyway,” Mr. Rogers replied, 
smiling softly to himself. “Anyhow, he’ll be a 
pretty good reporter by then, and he can help you 
a whole lot.” 

“But three years is a long time,” was Jimmy’s 
last remark. “And this old town’s going to be 
awfully lonesome 1 ” 


THE END 



The Boys* Dollar Book Shelf 

The object of this series is to give a high graJe, 
attractive and interesting series of books for boys 
on up-to-date subjects and at a popular price 

Each volume $1,00 nett postpaid $1,12 


Bp Walter V, Eaton 

The Boy Scouts of Berkshire 

A story of how the Chipmunk Patrol was started, what they did 
and how they did it. ^ 313 pages 

The Boy Scouts of the Dismal Swamp 

This story is a continuation of THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 
and is an unusually interesting book on Boy Scouting. 810 pages 

Boy Scouts in the White Mountains 

Intimate knowledge of the country as well as of the basic princi- 
ples of ^y Scouting characterises this new volume by Mr. Eaton. 

320 pages 

Boy Scouts of the Wildcat Patrol 

A story of Boy Scouting 

This story is a continuation of the history of Peanut and the other 
characters which appeared in previous volumes by this author. 

315 pages 

Bp Hugh C. Weir 

The Young Shipper of the Great Lakes 

A Story of the Commerce of the Great Lakes. 825 pages 

Cinders — The Young Apprentice of 
the Steel Mills 

A wonderful story of the great steel industry, showing how a boy 
succeeded in working his way through the various departments. 
The story gives a clear and intensely interesting picture of this 
great industry. 309 pages 

The Young Wheat Scout 

Being the story of the growth, harvesting and distribution 
of the great wheat crop of the United States 

How it is produced, how distributed and how great a value it is to 
the prosperity of the country. Intensely interesting and full of valu- 
able information. 318 pages 



The Boys’ Dollar Book Shelf 

(Continued) 

The object of this series is to give a high grade 
attractive and interesting series of books for boys 
on up-to-date subjects and at a popular price 

Each volume $1,00 nett postpaid $1,12 


fip Lewis E, Theiss 

In Camp at Fort Brady — A Camping 
Story 

The country around Fort Brady is rich in historical interest and 
the month’s camping trip of a party of boys with a competent guide 
serves to develop a story which is full of information. 320 pages 


His Big Brother 

A story of the Struggles and Triumphs of a Little Son of Liberty 

A story of the "Big Brother” movement and interesting both to 
young and old alike. This great "Big Brother” movement is espe- 
cially interesting to all and shows how the other half live and what 
is being done to help and uplift them. 320 pages 


By Bruce Bariter 

* ‘Young Honesty*^ — Politician 

A tip-top political story for boys. Nothing goody-goody about it 
but ^11 of good red blood. 304 pages 


The Young Homesteaders 

The development of the great West and how two boys made a home 
for their mothefis the basis of this story. It is an interesting picture 
of western life and full of the interests that boys enjoy. 310 pages 


Bp Com. Thos'. D. Barker, U.S.N. (retired) 

Young Heroes of the American Navy 

Being stories and adventures of the most noted young heroes 
of our navy 

The naval history of our country has developed many young men 
who through patriotism have performed many acts of daring heroism 
and whose names are in the hall of naval fame. 

Many and many a boy will become better acquainted with the 
naval history of his country through reading the wonderful biograph- 
ical sketches contained in this volume. 820 pages 



Commander Edw. L, Beach, U.S.N. 


Ralph Osborn — Midshipman at Am 
napolis 

A STORY OF ANNAPOLIS LIFE. 336 pages 

Midshipman Raiph Osborn at Sea 

A STORY OF MIDSHIPMAN LIFE AT SEA, AND 
CONTINUING “ RALPH OSBORN— MIDSHIPMAN 
AT ANNAPOLIS.” ' 360 pages 

Ensign Ralph Osborn 

THE STORY OF HIS TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS 
IN A BATTLESHIP’S ENGINE ROOM. 338 pages 

Lieutenant Ralph Osborn Aboard a 
Torpedo Boat Destroyer 

BEING THE STORY OF HOW RALPH OSBORN 
BECAME A LIEUTENANT AND OF HIS CRUISE 
IN AN AMERICAN TORPEDO BOAT DESTROYER 
IN WEST INDIAN WATERS. 342 pages 

The "OSBORN” books show the steps of advancement in the 
American Navy, from Cadet to Lieutenant, with a true picture of naval 
life as it is. The information given is authentic^ and many of the 
related incidents were actual occurrences. They are books of infor- 
mation and adventure combined. 

Such stories as these are not only interesting to the yoimg people but 
carry with them an insight into naval life which will make the reader 
have more respect and appreciation of the work of Uncle Sam’s navy. 
They are first-class stories for boys — clean, good, and worthy of a 
place in the home, private or school library. 

"These are the best stories on the United States Navy which have 
ever been written. They give a clear insight into the workings of this 
important branch of American government and the characters are true 
to life as befits a book written by such a man as Commander Beach, 
who has enjoyed an enviable career ever since he entered the United 
States Navy .” — New York Times. 

These Volumes are alt fully illustrated 
Prieet Cloth, $t.50 each 


W. A. WILDE CO. Boston and Chicago 



The Girls’ Dollar Book Shelf 

The object of this series is to give a high grade, 
attractive and interesting series of hooks for girls 
on up-to-date subjects and at a popular price 

Each volume $1.00 net, postpaid $1.12 


“By Amy E. Blanchard 

Elizabeth, Betsy and Bess 

Miss Blanchard needs no introduction to girls. Her stories have 
been read for years and Elizabeth, Betsy and Bess are just such 
characters as every girl enjoys reading about. 284 pages 

Elizabeth, Betsy and Bess — 
Schoolmates 

' This is the story of the school days of the three girl chums and 
shows the individual development of each one. Every chapter is 
full of the interesting experiences dear to the hearts of girls of this 
age. 336 pages 

The Camp Fire Oirls of Brightwood 

A STORY OF HOW THEY KINDLED THEIR FIRE 
AND KEPT IT BURNING 

What the Boy Scout organization means to the boys, Camp Fire 
Girls means to their sisters. It is a well grounded organization, 
having high aims of helpfulness and personal service and this story 
shows the development in the characters of those who made up the 
organization in the little town of Brightwood. 309 pages 

By Grace Blanchard 

Ph alidads Glad Year 

As the librarian of one of our largest libraries. Miss Grace Blanch- 
ard knows what girls like and in this new volume readers will 
find some of the faces with which they were familiar in “Phil’s 
Happy Girlhood,” It is full of interest from beginning to end and 
will appeal to every girl. 340 pages 


By Marion Ames Taggart 

Beth's Old Home 

This is the aftermath of “ Beth’s Wonder-Winter” and tells of her 
return to her old home. It is a separate story and yet, after read- 
ing it one will be anxious to know of the incidents and pleasures of 
“ Beth’s Wonder- Winter” in New York. 350 pages 

Fully Illustrated. Price $1.25 net 




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